


Stop Making Eyes At Me (But I Don't Really Want You To)

by Half, TheGaySmurf



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, Rivals to Lovers, Softball AU, lots of snark, snark and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 19:34:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10860639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Half/pseuds/Half, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGaySmurf/pseuds/TheGaySmurf
Summary: Waverly stammers for a moment, gaping at her. “I-I… You… I’ll have you know that I am not arrogant, Haught.”“Just a prick, then?”The smirk on Nicole’s face makes Waverly wish she had a bat. “You wonder why I don’t like you.”“Hm.” Nicole leans off of the wall, breaking off a piece of the pretzel and tossing it into her mouth. As she finishes it, she pushes the last bit into Waverly’s hand. “You don’t like me because I’m a better hitter than you are a pitcher, and it pisses off your ego. Enjoy the pretzel.”





	1. Chapter 1

Waverly Earp has never pitched better in her life, and she can’t even fucking enjoy it.

The tournament in Georgia is the first one of the year, in August, the first chance to really judge opponents and strategy and team strength. And Waverly proves herself worth that full-ride scholarship, that freshman starting position, by barely allowing any hits at all during the games she pitches.

Except, of _course_ , during the game when it matters the most.

It’s not the final game. It’s not a championship or a game that really counts for anything. But it counts for _her_ , dammit, and if there was one game from the three-day weekend that Waverly _really wanted to win_ , it was the one that she lost.

Because it was against _them_. Against _her_.

The Ghost River University Cowboys was her sister’s team. Wynonna had been their star centerfielder when she played a few years back, and now she’s their assistant coach, and Waverly had utterly refused to play for them because she was really damn tired of constantly being held up to the expectation of how good she was in comparison to her sisters.

And she still lost, because Wynonna’s team has… her.

Waverly can see her, leaning against the snack stand eating a soft pretzel. She’s probably half a foot taller than her, not that it matters, red hair pulled back and tucked under a dark blue baseball cap.

Nicole Haught, catcher, star hitter, playing for her first year even though she’s a sophomore because she sat on the bench for a year since a senior had been in the position she plays.

Of the ten hits Waverly allowed all weekend, three of them were home runs from Nicole fricking Haught.

She takes in a breath, steels herself, pulls down the brim of her red cap, and stalks her way over to the catcher with the pretzel.

“Hey there,” Nicole greets, way too casual, way too friendly.

“Just so you know,” Waverly says through gritted teeth, “I hate you.”

“Ouch.” Nicole chews on a piece of pretzel, swallows, then holds out the piece in her hand. “Pretzel?”

“What? No.”

“Y’know, Earp, catchers and pitchers don’t _have_ to despise each other.” Nicole eats another piece. “I mean, it’s not required just because pitchers are arrogant pricks.”

Waverly stammers for a moment, gaping at her. “I-I… You… I’ll have you know that I am not _arrogant_ , Haught.”

“Just a prick, then?”

The smirk on Nicole’s face makes Waverly wish she had a bat. “You wonder why I don’t like you.”

“Hm.” Nicole leans off of the wall, breaking off a piece of the pretzel and tossing it into her mouth. As she finishes it, she pushes the last bit into Waverly’s hand. “You don’t like me because I’m a better hitter than you are a pitcher, and it pisses off your ego. Enjoy the pretzel.”

She starts to walk away, and Waverly throws the pretzel at the six stitched into the back of Nicole’s uniform.

“Don’t get so stressed, Earp,” Nicole says, turning and walking backwards so she can look at Waverly.

Waverly hopes she’ll trip.

“I’m not stressed; I’m pissed. There’s a difference.”

“Not really.” The catcher taps the brim of her hat as if tipping it. “But don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll have plenty of chances to toss me home run pitches in the future.”

She laughs, loud and just a bit cocky but also weirdly warm, and jogs off towards her team’s bus.

Waverly watches her leave, and she tries not to think about how fun it would be to aim a pitch right at Nicole Haught’s stupid face.

 

+++

 

 Stephanie Jones, third base, has not stopped bitching to Samantha Baker, right field, since the bus pulled away from the tournament.

Waverly, sitting all the way at the front next to the catcher, Mattie Perley, can hear their words loud and clear.

“I _cannot believe_ we lost to the Cowboys,” Steph complains. “Three home runs! How does someone give up _three home runs_? I mean honestly, they say we have a good pitcher, but I can’t see how that’s _remotely_ possible after this weekend.”

“They’re going to point at the wins and say that she earned them,” Sam says. “I had to catch four balls near the fence to prevent them from being hits. How is that _her_ victory? C’mon.”

Steph shifts her voice, a conspiratorial whisper that isn’t a whisper at all. “You know what I think? I think she let us lose to the Cowboys on _purpose_. You _know_ that’s her sister’s team. The whole thing is a massive conflict of interest.”

The two girls continue to talk, the entire conversation badmouthing Waverly, and she almost stands up five times but each time Mattie tugs her back down into her seat.

“They aren’t worth it, Earp,” she mutters. “Put your headphones in and do your homework.”

“I hate math almost as much as I hate them,” Waverly replies under her breath. “I’m a history major. I shouldn’t have to do this.”

Mattie smirks and adjusts her sunglasses, flipping through her sociology textbook. “And I’m an engineering major doing soc work. College is a cruel bitch.”

Waverly glances in the mirror above the bus driver as she sticks earbuds in her ears, catching sight of Steph turning around in her seat to say something to Rachel Klein and Sonya Torres. “College isn’t the only one,” she mumbles.

 

+++

 

“I think I ticked your sister off well and good, Coach,” Nicole says as she waits to get off of the team bus in the university’s parking lot.

“Christ, Haught,” Wynonna says, giving her an irritated look. “What did you do? You didn’t hit on my sister, did you?”

“How stupid do you think I am?” Nicole rocks back in her seat, leaning against the bus’s window. “She didn’t seem very happy about my hits.”

“You got three home runs off of my baby sister, who has never given up a home run in her life.” Wynonna sticks her pen in her belt like it’s a gun she’s going to whip out later. “You’re lucky she didn’t take your bat and shove it up your ass.”

“Not very sporting.”

Wynonna stares at her for a moment, then snorts. “Haught, you’re a good catcher. A great hitter. But you do not know a goddamn thing about Earps.” She points out the window at the track. “When you’ve got your bags put away, run a lap.”

“What for?”

Her coach smirks at her and heads off the bus. “Because I am your _god_ , Six.”

Nicole sighs loudly, picks up her water bottle, and walks off the bus to retrieve her equipment bags.

 

+++

 

The next time Waverly sees her sister’s team and Nicole Haught it’s October. A chilly day means that she’s wearing a thin black Underarmour under her red uniform shirt. She can see Nicole in the dugout in a similar ensemble, tan and blue. She’s tapping her bat against the concrete floor, chewing gum and _staring_ at her, the smirk on her face so clear that Waverly can practically feel it.

“I hate her,” Waverly says in a low voice.

Her coach, Gus McCready, doesn’t even look up from the clipboard she’s using to confirm both teams’ rosters. “That’s fine as long as you don’t let her get three home runs again.”

Waverly’s face burns as she sets her jaw, picks up her glove, and heads out to the mound.

 

+++

 

Nicole gets two hits off of her, an RBI single and a double, but she also strikes out once, so Waverly doesn’t feel as much of an urge to deck her.

After the game, before the Cowboys have piled into their bus, Waverly finds Nicole leaning against the back of the dugout spitting sunflower seed shells onto the ground.

“Am I always going to find you when you’re eating something?” Waverly asks, her grip tight on the bat bag on her shoulder.

“I need things to do with my mouth so I don’t get myself in trouble,” Nicole replies with that damn smirk once again on her face.

“I struck you out.”

“Yes, and I’m sure you’re mighty proud of yourself.”

Waverly lifts her chin, eyes cold. “I am, actually.”

“Never said you were a bad pitcher,” Nicole points out. “You’re just also an asshole who will never, ever keep me off base for a full game.”

“That sounds like a challenge, Haught.”

“It _is_ a challenge, Earp.” Nicole leans in towards her, and somewhere in the back of Waverly’s mind she notes that she smells like the spearmint gum she was chewing earlier. “You seem to really like trying to get me out. I really like trying to keep you from a perfect game. The challenge is already in our systems.” She pats Waverly on the cheek, and Waverly jerks away from her, annoyed. “There’s no stopping it now.”

Waverly snorts. “I could stop it by striking you out every time you’re at the plate.”

“Yeah, you could. If that was actually possible.” Nicole gently taps her finger against the brim of Waverly’s hat, knocking it down over her eyes. “You aren’t as good as you think you are.”

By the time Waverly, furious, pushes her hat back up, Nicole is halfway across the field, heading for the parking lot.

 

+++

 

“I don’t get it, Xavier,” Waverly says, walking to the study hall that all athletes are required to participate in. “Why are all-star hitters such _douchebags_?”

Xavier Dolls, first base for the baseball team, raises an eyebrow at her. “I have absolutely no idea.”

Waverly shoves his shoulder. “I don’t mean _you_. I mean the jackass on my sister’s team.”

“Who, Haught?”

“See? _Everyone knows who she is!_ Why? Because she can hit the goddamn ball. Big deal! Do they know how hard it is to make sure people _can’t_ hit the goddamn ball? Really hard! But Nicole fucking Haught waltzes in and gets lucky and suddenly she’s the freaking Softball Messiah!”

Dolls laughs, the short laugh that has almost everyone convinced that he finds nothing genuinely funny, and teasingly pats her on the head. “You’re still mad about the tournament.”

“I’m mad about _her_. She said I was an arrogant prick. _Me!_ I’ve never been arrogant in my life.”

“Mhm. Waverly, how many strikeouts did you get last game?”

“Thirteen.”

“How many do you expect to get in the next game?”

Waverly snorts. “It’s the Patriots. They can’t hit against me. I’ll get at _least_ sixteen.”

Dolls says nothing, just smirks, nods, and keeps walking.

Waverly takes a moment to review what she said and flushes. “Okay. Maybe I’m a _little_ arrogant.”

“Just a little.”

“But I’m _good_ , Xavier, and I finally have a chance to be recognized for my own achievements instead of Wynonna’s or Willa’s, and I’m _proud of that_. And I can’t feel like it’s earned because some dick of a catcher mocks me for it and my teammates give me shit for every solid hit and every time I play really well, Nicole Haught swoops in and does something amazing and gets all of the thunder.”

Dolls grips her shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze. “You’ve got plenty of lightning, Waverly Earp. Give it time. All you need is a few storm clouds.”

Waverly sighs and nods and opens the door to let them both into the study hall building.

Before she goes inside, she glances up at the sky.

 

+++

 

There’s one more game against the Cowboys before the season officially starts, at their home field.

Nicole gets a single and two doubles, but the rest of her team fails to do enough to get a win.

As Waverly fills up her water bottle at a fountain, Nicole leans against the wall next to her.

“Just so we’re clear,” she says, “you still haven’t beaten _me_.”

“We still won, though.”

“Yeah. But that’s probably more of a win against your sister than it is against me, huh?”

“I dunno,” Waverly says, tightening the cap of her bottle. “Wynonna isn’t the one I want to punch.”

“Go ahead,” Nicole dares, turning her hat backwards and leaning forward so that her jaw is sticking out and vulnerable. “All you’ll do is hurt that precious hand of yours. Can’t pitch a ball with three broken fingers.”

“You’d like that,” Waverly retorts. “Then you wouldn’t have such a tough pitcher to face.”

“I’m not so sure about that.” Nicole twists her hat back around. “Another pitcher might not have let me get two doubles.”

Waverly’s hands tighten into fists and she’s so mad she stumbles in the formation of her reply, but before she can get it out, Wynonna’s walking up to them.

“Haught, get your ass to the locker room and stop pestering my sister.”

“Sure, Coach.”

With a final smirk at Waverly, Nicole jogs off.

“She’s not bothering you, is she?” Wynonna asks, concern in her eyes.

“Her existence bothers me,” Waverly mutters. Off of Wynonna’s worried look, she shakes her head. “Haught is fine. Nothing I can’t handle. Just a cocky jock being a cocky jock.”

“So, like fighting a mirror?” Wynonna laughs at Waverly’s scowl and pulls her into a hug. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Gross. Get off. You’re the enemy.”

“You’re the one who went off to my disgusting _rival_ to play softball.” Wynonna takes Waverly’s face in her hands, her expression going surprisingly gentle. “And you’re doing amazing.”

Waverly can’t help how her voice squeaks like she’s six years old when she asks, “Really?”

“Definitely, baby girl.” Wynonna kisses her forehead before taking a step back. “And now I need to go tell a bunch of college aged bratty softball players that practice has been moved to six a.m. instead of seven.”

“Good God,” Waverly whispers with a shudder. “You’re horrible.”

“Always have been; always will be.”

She walks off, tightening the coach’s jacket that fit her so well, dark hair billowing faintly in the wind.

 

+++

 

Nicole isn’t sure why she’s _nervous_ when the first game of the spring season is between her team and the Red Devils. She sits in the dugout, watching Waverly warm up on the field, sending scorching pitches into the glove of her catcher.

Nicole really wishes that her eyes wouldn’t keep drifting, studying Waverly’s biceps, her ass, the occasional outline of abs through her uniform shirt when she stretches her arms upward.

The girl really needed a lesson. That was all. A message loud and clear that the regular season was not going to be a coasting ride. That Nicole wasn’t going to roll over for her just because she’s hot and has a pretty name and pitches well and is her coach’s sister.

Nicole blinks, confused, when she realizes that she has no idea where the descriptors of ‘hot’ and ‘pretty’ had come from in regards to Waverly Earp.

She sees the glare Waverly shoots at her as she steps into the on-deck circle, and notes that she doesn’t really care.

It is not happening.

 

+++

 

After their second game of the season, at Waverly’s school, Nicole traps her against the dugout and hands her a soft pretzel.

“What the hell is this for?” Waverly asks in a tone close to a snarl.

“It’s a tradition,” Nicole says. “I gave you one the last time I hit a home run off of you. Now I’m giving you another one since I hit another home run off of you.”

Waverly pulls Nicole’s shirt collar forward and drops the pretzel down it. It slides down Nicole’s torso, coarse and scratchy, before stopping at the line of her pants where her shirt is tucked in.

“That’s a little uncalled for, Earp,” Nicole mutters.

“You’re a dick, Nicole Haught.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I wouldn’t be if you didn’t hate me for playing the game we both love.” Nicole reaches down her shirt and fishes the pretzel out. She takes a bite of it and says, “Also, thanks, I always wanted to be covered in salt by a pretty girl.”

Waverly is glad that her hat and hair cover the way her ears involuntarily go pink. “Well, y’know, Haught, I’m sure you could pay somebody to do that for you.”

“True.” Nicole takes another bite of the pretzel, grimaces, and tosses it towards a squirrel hopping around near a tree a few feet away. “Wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as this, though.”

“Glad you’re so entertained,” Waverly says in a chilly voice, shoving her way past Nicole and heading for the locker room.

And a cold shower.

 

+++

 

They play each other in the championship game, and the whole thing comes down to Waverly and Nicole.

There are three players on base. Nicole’s at the plate. She has two strikes on her. There are two outs. If Nicole drives in a run, the game ties. If she drives in more than one run, her team wins. If she gets out, they lose.

They battle each other through twenty pitches, Nicole popping potential strikes out of bounds for fouls, Waverly doing everything within her power to avoid the last ball Nicole needs for a walk.

It’s clear to everyone in the stadium that they’re both exhausted by the final pitch. Concentration faltering, muscles weakening. Unstoppable force, immovable object, but one of them will have to break in the end.

It’s Nicole, swinging at a pitch that is definitely a strike but that she just can’t get her bat on.

Waverly’s team is screaming and celebrating and even Steph and her little posse are patting her on the back, but she can’t help the small twinge of sympathy as she looks at Nicole Haught, who has just sat down on the plate and taken off her helmet, clearly burned out. The coach’s daughter, Chrissy, one of the pitchers for the Cowboys, crouches down next to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. Nicole nods, and gives a smile, and doesn’t seem _upset_ , but when Wynonna appears at her other shoulder, resting a hand on her back and asking her urgent questions with worry in her eyes, Nicole leans against her coach and lets out a long, slow breath.

It isn’t until Wynonna and Chrissy pull Nicole to her feet, pat her on the shoulder, and lead her to the dugout that Waverly realizes that _she’s_ exhausted, too. Her arm is killing her, her legs are aching, her entire body is spent.

Gus fights her way through the crowd and pats her hand on the top of Waverly’s head. “Good girl,” she says. “Now come with me.”

 

+++

 

The din of celebration is still audible outside as Waverly sits on a bed and waits for her team’s trainer, John Henry “Doc” Holliday, to make sure she didn’t do any damage to her shoulder. But when the door opens, the person who walks in isn’t Doc.

It’s Nicole.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, collapsing into a seat. “Coach Nedley wanted me to come here and get checked out. I’m pretty sure I’m just dehydrated, but you know coaches.”

“Yeah, I know coaches. That’s why I’m in here, too.”

They sit in a lengthy awkward silence until Waverly admits, “You played well. At least, you did in that last at bat.”

“Christ,” Nicole mumbles, her head resting back against the chair. “You are relentless, woman. I thought that last at bat was going to kill me.”

Waverly laughs. “Uh, yeah, I’m definitely glad I don’t need to be pitching any time soon, because I’m not sure I can move my arm.”

“We’ve achieved mutually assured destruction,” Nicole jokes. “I’m too tired to bat, you’re too tired to pitch, we never need to truly discover which one of us is better.”

“I’d like to point out to you that I _won_ that duel, thank you very much.”

Nicole opens one eye and squints at her. “Fuck off.”

For once, it doesn’t piss Waverly off. She just laughs again. “Dude,” she says with a shake of her head, “I don’t think we’re going to survive each other next year.”

“Probably not.” Nicole shifts down further, closing her eyes to sleep. “But then, there are definitely worse ways to die.”


	2. Chapter 2

On the first day of practice for the new season, Nicole finds herself asking her coach about her sister.

Wynonna gives her a weird look. “She’s fine,” she says with a jerking shrug. “Why do you wanna know?”

“Oh. Uh. Well, I mean, we built up a bit of a rivalry last year, and I don’t want it ruined if she doesn’t play.”

“Trust me; she’ll play.” Wynonna smacks Nicole on the shoulder in a move that is somehow both friendly and vaguely threatening. “Go take some hits, Haught.”

“Huh?”

“Did you get enough sleep last night?” Wynonna gestures at the batting cages. _“Hit.”_

“R-Right. Sorry, Coach. I’ll go there now.”

Nicole grabs her bat and gloves and helmet and jogs off to the cages, hoping that her embarrassment doesn’t show on her face.

 

+++

 

In their first game against each other, during a two-day tournament, Waverly strikes Nicole out.

And allows her a home run and a triple.

After the game, before the long ride home, Waverly stops by the snack stand to grab a bottle of Gatorade and finds Nicole standing there with a hot dog.

“It called my name,” Nicole jokes.

“That’s terrible.”

“What are you getting?”

“Gatorade.”

“Hm. What’s your color?”

“Lemon-Lime.”

“Dude. No.”

Waverly raises an eyebrow. “No?”

“No. Cool Blue is totally the best Gatorade.”

“I’ve never had a Cool Blue Gatorade in my life.”

“How have you… You offend me, Earp.” Nicole leans in front of Waverly before she can order. “Hey. Get my friend a blue Gatorade and a soft pretzel, please?” She hands the woman in the stand a ten dollar bill, waves off the change, and hands Waverly the items. “Live a little.”

Waverly smirks as Nicole grabs her arm and pulls her away from the snack stand. “What if I don’t like your dumb blue Gatorade?”

“Well, you didn’t pay for it, what do you care?”

“What’s the pretzel for?”

Nicole frowns at her. “Now I’m _really_ offended, Earp. I got a home run.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.”

“I hope you aren’t going to throw it at me again.”

“I would if I wasn’t hungry,” Waverly mutters, biting into the pretzel.

“Wow,” Nicole says solemnly. “All that friendship that we built last year. Gone just after one summer.”

“We hated each other last year, Haught.”

“I know.” Nicole leans in towards her, grinning. “Wasn’t it fun?” She flicks the three embroidered on Waverly’s sleeve. “You’d know what fun was if you weren’t a pitcher.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure you catchers have _so much fun_ crouched down like an idiot all the damn time.”

Nicole shrugs, her grin turning into more of a smirk. “You gotta admit though, Earp. The gear is pretty hot.”

Waverly pauses in her walking, blinking at Nicole in confusion as the obvious flirting slowly makes its way through her brain. “What-”

“And now I’m going to be late for my bus and be sent on laps by your sister,” Nicole interrupts, checking the watch hooked onto her bat bag. “Enjoy your _utterly delicious_ Gatorade, Earp.”

She sprints off towards her bus, and Waverly watches her, baffled by the prickling feeling on the back of her neck.

 

+++

 

They’re at Nicole’s field and Nicole has gotten a strike out, a ground out, a pop fly out, and a sacrifice bunt.

Waverly catches her afterwards still wearing her batting gloves, pacing behind the dugout.

“Hey,” Waverly says, her voice soft. “Are you okay? You don’t usually-”

_“I know,”_ Nicole snaps, brown eyes solid rocks as she glares. “I fucking know, okay, Earp? I don’t really need your mockery right now.”

Waverly steps into her space, unable to help the rush of anger that bursts through her. “I wasn’t going to _mock you_ , you jackass, I wanted to make sure you were _alright_ , because I know that isn’t _like you_.”

“I fine,” Nicole says coldly. “I’m perfectly fine, you finally beat me, isn’t that what you always fricking wanted?”

“Not really. Not like this.” To even her own surprise, Waverly reaches out and rests her hand on Nicole’s shoulder. “Haught,” she murmurs. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Nicole sighs, the rage slipping out of her. “I just… I failed my first exam of the year, and if I don’t get my grade up fast it’s gonna screw me.” She rubs at her eyes, leaning against the wall. “I just can’t focus enough to study sometimes.”

“Well, I’ve always found that drinking some blue Gatorade every time I don’t study helps. It’s so gross that I stay on track.”

Nicole laughs, weakly but honestly, and rests her head back against the stone. “Not a fan of my gift, huh?”

“Lemon-Lime all the way, weirdo.”

She isn’t sure what makes her do it, but she absentmindedly trails her hand up and brushes her thumb against Nicole’s cheek before lowering it back to her shoulder.

“You’ll be fine, Nicole. You’re relatively smart.”

“Relatively, huh?”

“Mhm. You still chose to be a catcher.”

Nicole laughs again, far more strongly, and lowers her head to make eye contact. “Thank you, Waverly.”

“Of course,” Waverly whispers.

They stare at each other for a long moment, until Waverly clears her throat and steps back.

“You’re no fun as competition if you make it easy,” she explains awkwardly.

“Right,” Nicole murmurs. “Of course.”

“Er. Until the next time, Haught. And you’d better study your ass off.”

“Absolutely, Earp. I promise.”

Waverly heads off to her bus, and she can feel Nicole watching her as she goes.

 

+++

 

On the ride home, Steph and Sam sit in the set of seats directly next to Waverly and Mattie, and Waverly can tell that it’s trouble.

“Why are you making friends with the enemy?” Steph asks tersely.

“What?” Mattie asks, her voice low.

“Not _you_ , Perley. I’m talking to _Earp_ , and her buddy-buddy bromance with Nicole Haught.”

Mattie snorts, and Waverly makes a scoffing noise that she hopes is convincing. “I would never be friends with Nicole Haught.”

“Seemed awfully friendly with her today,” Sam says in a sing-song voice.

“For hell’s sake. I was talking to her. Am I not allowed to talk to people?”

“You sure as fuck aren’t allowed to talk to star batters from our rival team,” Steph says in a voice scarily close to a snarl. She snickers. “Not that she was much of a star today.”

“Yeah, Steph, and what did you do?” Waverly asks before she can stop herself. “Let three balls get passed you, fumbled a bunt, and struck out twice. What’s that thing about glass houses?”

Steph glares at her while Mattie, pretending to read her engineering textbook, mutters, _“Damn.”_

 

+++

 

It’s the day before her last fall game against the Cowboys, and Waverly dreams of Nicole Haught.

Not in any way she would’ve intended.

She wakes up in a sweat at three in the morning and doesn’t fall back to sleep, just in case.

 

+++

 

Nicole isn’t completely back to normal, but she doesn’t strike out. She flies out once to far centerfield and gets a single and, to Waverly’s horror, draws a walk.

When she comes over to Waverly, grinning, Waverly has a few too many uncomfortable flashes of the night before.

Mixed in with frustration over the walk, it’s a bad combination, and the hesitation in Nicole’s eyes as she says hello makes it clear that she knows it.

Instead of saying hi, Waverly grabs her by the collar of her uniform and pins her up against the dugout.

“You’re a _prick_ , Nicole Haught,” she snarls.

A shadowed look glances over Nicole’s face, almost as if she _likes this_ , but before Waverly can properly process it, it’s gone, replaced by a serious expression. “Okay, but you already knew that, Earp.”

“Fuck you.”

“Buy me a drink first.”

_“Fuck. You.”_

Nicole brushes some leftover dirt off of her jaw. “Y’know, I’m starting to think you don’t like me.”

Waverly blinks and takes a step back, running a hand through her hair. “You baffle me, Haught.”

“That’s the _point_.” Nicole leans forward until she’s way too close to Waverly’s face and Waverly can smell the flavor of her gum. “If you figure me out, Waverly Earp, there’s just not as much fun in it.”

She winks and pats Waverly’s cheek, and Waverly gets so red that she’s pretty sure she probably matches the color of her uniform.

“Go to hell, Nicole,” she grumbles, spinning on her heel and storming off towards the bus.

“I did better on the second test,” Nicole yells after her.

“Congratulations,” Waverly yells back over her shoulder automatically. She sees Nicole smirk, and she winces and starts walking so fast that less polite company would probably call it a run.

 

+++

 

She goes to walk into the locker room, and Steph is on her way out.

She slams her shoulder into Waverly’s so hard that Waverly trips against the door.

As she watches Steph saunter off, Waverly can feel quite plainly that she’s going to have a bruise in the shape of a doorknob on her back for the entirety of Thanksgiving break.

 

+++

 

After their first loss of the spring season, Waverly leans against the back of the dugout and frowns up at Nicole.

“I hate you and your three triples.”

Nicole grins and tips her hat up a bit, showing Waverly more of her stupid face. “Okay, but three triples is _really good_ , Earp. Maybe I should talk to your catcher? Show her a few things about calling pitches?”

Waverly gets up in her face, eyes blazing. “I don’t need a damn catcher to call my pitches. I make my _own_ choices, thanks.”

She knows it’s a mistake when Nicole smirks. “So that pitch selection was _your_ idea.”

“Of course it was my decision,” Waverly says through gritted teeth. “I don’t need a _catcher_ to tell me what pitch to throw.”

“Okay. So I can thank you for the two-strike fastball, then? Sounds good to me.”

“W-Wait, no-”

“If you want, Waverly,” Nicole says, getting in close to Waverly, her amusement lighting her eyes, “I can help you out with your choices. I’d be _more_ than willing to _show you a few things_ , Earp.”

Waverly flushes bright red. “Oh, s-shut up, Haught.”

“You sure?” Nicole asks, grinning.

Waverly hesitates for a moment before reaching up and pulling Nicole’s hat down over her eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“Takes one to know one, baby,” Nicole teases as she tips her hat back up.

With a scoffing laugh, Waverly shoves her shoulder lightly against Nicole to push her away. “Go take a shower, you jackass.”

“Oo, there are so many things I could do with that,” Nicole laughs. Instead, she takes a large step back, swoops off her hat, and does a low, dramatic bow. “Until next time, Ms. Earp.”

“You’re a weirdo,” Waverly snickers, heading off to her bus.

 

+++

 

When Nicole gets to the door of the locker room, Wynonna blocks her path. “Whatcha doing, Haught?”

“Uh… showering and going home?”

“Naw.” Wynonna points at the track. “I think you should run some laps.”

Nicole raises an eyebrow, cheeks pink, fairly positive that she knows exactly why Wynonna wants her to do it. “How many?”

Wynonna shrugs. “Until I say so or you puke?”

“Cool,” Nicole says dryly.

With a sigh, still wearing her uniform, she turns and runs off towards the track.

 

+++

 

“Earp,” Coach Nedley says as he goes to carry a bucket of balls to the storage shed, “why has Haught been running laps for the past hour and a half?”

“She hit on my sister.”

“The one on the Devils?”

“Yep.”

Nedley watches Nicole pause for a moment to catch her breath, looking more annoyed than anything else. With a shrug, he continues towards the shed.

“Don’t kill her.”

Wynonna squints at the girl on the track. “I’ll try.”

 

+++

 

When Nicole finally gets back to her dorm, exhausted, her roommate Chrissy Nedley doesn’t even look up from the paper she’s writing.

“That girl’s gonna get you in trouble, Haught.”

“Fuck you,” Nicole breathes as she collapses onto her bed. “She’s pretty and she’s fun.”

Chrissy snorts. “Yeah, well, I sure hope you like running.”

Nicole mumbles a retort into the pillow, but Chrissy can’t even ask her to repeat herself more clearly before the catcher is sound asleep.

 

+++

 

At the next practice, Steph “accidentally” misses a throw and hits Waverly square in her side.

It brings the count of number of bruises caused by Stephanie Jones up to four.

 

+++

 

Nicole doesn’t play in their next matchup. Doesn’t even travel to the field.

When Waverly catches a quick moment with her sister and, hopefully, _casually_ asks why, Wynonna tells her that Nicole got the flu and was ordered to rest so that she could get back on the field quicker.

Waverly tries not to think about the fact that she downright _misses_ her post-game snark session with Nicole Haught.

 

+++

 

The next time they play, Waverly is admittedly relieved to see Nicole. She blames the relief for Nicole’s home run on the first pitch.

She gets another double and then grounds out, but the Devils win anyway.

Afterwards, Steph and Sam corner Waverly before she can see Nicole.

“Going to see your new best friend?” Steph asks nastily, shoving Waverly against the dugout.

“Steph, seriously-”

“You’re such a _bitch_ ,” Steph snarls. “Aren’t you our _teammate_? For fuck’s sake, Earp. And you can’t even pitch a goddamn ball! They got two home runs today!”

“Two home runs out of the four hits they got the whole game, and we won anyway,” Waverly says in a quiet voice.

Sam laughs. “You’re joking, right? That doesn’t matter, Earp. You’re a fuckup who’s a starting pitcher for no damn reason, and we’re really getting sick of you.”

“Yeah, well,” Waverly says slowly, keeping the tremor in her body out of her voice, “I don’t really give a shit about your opinion.”

She shoves her way past her two teammates, and goes off to try to find Nicole.

 

+++

 

She’s going to be late for the bus, but she doesn’t care, because it feels like Nicole is hiding from her, and that worries her.

She finds Nicole sitting under the bleachers with a Gatorade– Cool Blue –drinking it the way someone would chug a bottle of vodka.

“Hey,” Waverly says softly, sitting down next to her and setting a pretzel in her lap. “You got a home run.”

“Whatever,” Nicole mutters glumly.

“What’s the matter with you?”

“Why are you even talking to me?”

Waverly stares at her for a long moment before pushing herself to her feet. “Look, if you don’t want to joke for five freaking minutes, fine. Mope in here by yourself if you want to.”

Before she could walk away, Nicole says, “Why do they treat you like that?”

“Who?”

“Third and right.”

It takes only a moment for Waverly to realize that Nicole overheard her teammates and their rant. With a shrug, Waverly sits back down across from the rival catcher.

“They’re a year older than me. They were the star players, but they went down a bit in talent my first year. Steph wanted to be the starting picture. So when I showed up and took the star pitcher designation, they decided that every single little thing I did was wrong.”

“And I didn’t exactly help, huh?” Nicole asks wryly.

Waverly smiles. “No, you being a talented little shit really did not help me at all.”

Nicole took another sip of her Gatorade. “You shouldn’t keep talking to me if it’s only going to cause you problems, Waverly.”

“Hey. _I_ make my own choices, remember? That includes who I decide to be friends with.”

“Aw, we’re friends?”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Like, a _little_. Just barely. A tiny bit.”

Nicole grins and takes a bite of her pretzel. “I’ll take what I can get.”

 

+++

 

They both make the first team all state and have to go to a banquet before the final games of the season.

Waverly is _still_ getting shit from her teammates, even here, so she gives up and goes to the small deck outside just to get some peace and quiet.

After a few minutes, Nicole Haught leans against the railing next to her.

“You look good for a pitcher.”

Waverly laughs in a choked sound, trying to hold back tears in her eyes.

“Hey, hey.” Nicole takes Waverly’s face in her hands, concern clear in her expression. “C’mon, you don’t look _that_ good.”

“You’re an ass,” Waverly laughs, weakly punching Nicole’s shoulder.

“Well, yeah. What else is new?”

“I hate them, Nicole. I hate my own damn teammates.”

Nicole pulls her into a hug, warm and comforting and safe. “I’d tell you to transfer to our team, but Chrissy is my friend and she’d probably punch me if I did.”

She can feel Waverly laugh into her shoulder. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be such a prick but be so amusing at the same time.”

“I am the single most talented woman on the planet.”

“Best person ever at being humble?”

_“Grand champion.”_

Waverly chuckles softly and pulls out of the hug. “Thank you.”

“For being a dick?”

“For being my friend. And for being much more useful support than the people who are supposed to have my back.” Waverly sighs heavily and leans against the railing. “Mattie tries to at least hold it off when she’s around, but there’s only so much she can really do.”

“You don’t need to thank me for that,” Nicole whispers. “You’re worth it. You’re worth far more than a bunch of assholes who want to beat you down just because they’re jealous.” She idly brushes a strand of hair behind Waverly’s ear. “You’re worth everything.”

Waverly stares at her for what feels like ages, eyes roving her face. Then she surges forward, kissing Nicole hard on the mouth.

It lasts just long enough for them to know what each other tastes like, then Waverly makes a squeak of embarrassed shock and runs back into the banquet, leaving a stunned Nicole standing on the deck.

 

+++

 

Whoever wins their last matchup of the season will go on to the championship game.

Waverly does well, striking out the first three batters. And then in the second inning, she finds herself facing Nicole Haught.

They haven’t spoken since what Waverly has come to refer to as The Incident, and it scares the hell out of her, seeing Nicole here on the plate. Waverly is jittery and distracted and way off her game, and she loses control of the very first pitch.

It’s a fastball.

And it hits Nicole directly in the face.

Waverly immediately starts to run forward, genuine fear surging through her, but she’s stopped in her tracks by a glare from Mattie. The catcher pulls her mask off and crouches down to check on the dazed batter, who’s gushing blood out of her nose.

The following minutes are a blur Waverly barely registers. Wynonna and Nedley on the field, crowded around Nicole. Nicole being loaded into an ambulance. Gus asking Waverly if she’s okay to keep pitching.

For some reason, people believe it when Waverly nods and says yes.

They lose the game, because she can’t pitch a ball correctly anymore, every at bat forcing her to see the image of Nicole limp on the ground over and over and over in her mind.

 

+++

 

She sneaks into the hospital to see Nicole, and she’s relieved to see the catcher sitting up and conscious. Less relieved to see the bandage indicating a broken nose, and the swollen bruise on the edge of her eye.

“Earp,” Nicole greets, a slight caution in her voice. “You did a hell of a job. Broken nose, cracked eye socket, black eye… Jesus, you pitch hard.”

“I-I… I’m sorry.”

“If you wanted to take the kiss back, or if you just didn’t want to keep talking to me, you could’ve just said so,” Nicole says quietly. “You didn’t have to throw a softball at my face.”

“God, Nicole, you don’t… you don’t think I did this on _purpose_ , do you?”

Nicole hesitates. “Didn’t you?”

“Fuck, no, Nicole, I would never do that to you.” Waverly gets closer to her and takes her face gently in her hands, using her thumb to softly trace the edge of the darkening bruise. “I was distracted. When you were up on that plate, all I could think about was kissing you. I wasn’t paying attention, and I accidentally lost control of the ball. Right into your face.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Nicole grimaces. “You couldn’t have aimed for like a shoulder or something?”

Waverly laughs. “Trust me, I definitely didn’t aim for your face. I like it just the way it is, thanks.”

“You do?” Nicole prompts, something close to hope in her eyes.

“Yes.” Waverly strokes her thumb against Nicole’s cheek for another moment before leaning down and kissing Nicole on the mouth again, accidentally hitting their noses together.

“Ow,” Nicole mumbles into Waverly’s mouth.

“Sorry,” Waverly replies with a wince. “Really sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s a little my fault.”

“It’s a _lot_ your fault, but how am I supposed to get you to date me if I hold you accountable for shit?”

Waverly laughs loudly and, _carefully_ , kisses Nicole again. “You’re trouble.”

“Damn straight, woman.” Nicole leans back, studying Waverly for a moment. “One thing, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You do realize that this is going to be a _mess_ , right?”

“Oh. Yeah. Totally.” Waverly presses a soft kiss to Nicole’s temple. “But, y’know, that’s sort of how the two of us have _always_ been. So why stop now?”


	3. Chapter 3

Waverly manages to get a week into summer vacation before calling the number Nicole Haught scribbled on Waverly’s wrist in the hospital, like they were two highschoolers exchanging digits at their lockers between blocks.

She had hastily put it into her phone at the next possible moment, and now it was taunting her, staring at her every time she scrolls down to the Es to call her sister.

When she finally dials it, Nicole picks up so quickly that Waverly would almost swear that she had been watching the phone.

_“Hi.”_

“Hey,” Waverly says. “I, uh… I saw that your team lost the championship game.”

She immediately winces, because _really, Waverly._

_“Er, uh, yeah.”_ Nicole gives a quiet laugh. _“Guess they don’t fare well without their best hitter and catcher. Was this all an evil ploy, Earp?”_

Waverly can’t help her grin. “Yeah, that’s right. I hit you in the face and then blew my own game so that I could make you guys lose in the next round.”

_“Devious.”_

“How’s the face? Does it look better now?”

_“Than it did before you hit me? Probably.”_

“Ouch.”

_“Do you want to check on me yourself?”_

Waverly feels her heart flutter in her chest, and even though she knows damn well why, she flushes with embarrassment. “I guess I could. Where?”

_“There’s a Five Guys right down the street from where Chrissy and I live. It’s the offseason. Want a burger and fries?”_

“Do I get a milkshake too?”

Nicole laughs loudly. _“Dude, as if I’m_ not _getting one.”_

“Then it’s a date,” Waverly says.

There’s an awkward pause as the comment hits them both. Before Waverly can backpedal, Nicole says, _“Yeah, I guess it is.”_

+++

 

Her hair is shorter, and it takes Waverly’s breath away.

“Got tired of it,” Nicole explains sheepishly, fidgeting with the cap she holds in her hands. “Y’know how it is. Uhm. D-Do you… Do you not like it?”

Waverly reaches up and runs her fingers through the red locks, mussing them and letting them fall to one side. “I love it,” she murmurs.

Nicole flushes and puts her hat back on. “Oh. Well. Uhm. Good.”

“Do I get to buy you lunch today, Haught?”

“ _I’m_ the one that asked you out. That doesn’t seem very fair.”

Waverly threads her fingers with Nicole’s and tugs her towards the door. “Yeah, but you bought me all of those pretzels. I’m sure it’ll balance itself out.”

 

+++

 

“When did you start playing?” Waverly asks as she tosses a French fry into her mouth.

“As early as I could. I loved tee ball. I was so tall, even as a kid, that everybody wanted me to play basketball, but it just was never really my thing.” Nicole shrugs and grins. “Can’t shoot a basket to save my life. Why do you play?”

“My sisters. _Especially_ Wynonna. She was all-in. She used to drag me outside to toss balls to her to practice hitting.” Waverly gives a jerking shrug that’s almost identical to the one her sister does. “I was like three. I couldn’t even hold the damn ball.”

“Guess things have changed, judging by how hard you hit me in the face with one of those balls.”

Waverly points a fry at her. “Excuse me. That was not on purpose, and I apologized.”

“So? The longer I make you feel bad, the longer I can look at your pretty, pretty face.” Nicole leans back in her chair and picks her milkshake up off the table. “Even if you are a fricking pitcher.”

“You’re never going to shut up about that, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

“Well,” Waverly says, giving a dramatic sigh, “catchers always _have_ been the type to not let things go. They just… they’re afraid to take the step to move on. It’s why they’re horrible base runners.”

“Oh, you fuck. You’re gonna hold that _one time_ you caught me stealing third against me?”

“Yeah, asshole, I am.” Waverly reaches across the table and steals one of Nicole’s fries. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Nicole grins at her, a slow, affectionate grin that sends shivers down Waverly’s spine. “I’m gonna make you my girlfriend, Waverly Earp.”

“What if I don’t feel like it?” Waverly teases.

Nicole picks up Waverly’s hand and brushes a kiss against her knuckles. “I don’t believe you. I make you _swoon_ , Three.”

Waverly breaks into laughter, resting her head down on the table. “You’re fucking ridiculous. You know that? Christ. _Christ_. I’m not sure whether I should punch you or make out with you in the backseat of your car.”

“We could do both.” Nicole kisses Waverly’s hand again and then lets it back down onto the table. “C’mon, Earp. Why don’t we head back to my place? Chrissy’s there, so it’s not going to be as sketchy as that question sounds.”

“Sure,” Waverly says, still giggling. “Let’s do that.”

 

+++

 

The house Nicole and Chrissy stay in is on campus, paid for by their scholarships year round so that they can attend summer classes and take lighter loads during softball season.

“Have I told you that I hate you?” Waverly mutters, as she looks around the place with wide eyes.

“Last year it was an apartment the approximate size of a shoebox,” Chrissy says, scratching Nicole’s cat behind the ears when it hops up onto a table next to her. “Don’t be _too_ impressed.”

“Considering what Mattie and I have to stay in during the year, I think I’ll allow the fascination.” Waverly sits down on the couch, a respectable distance from Nicole. “How did you even… _find out_? About…” She gestures awkwardly between herself and the catcher.

“Nicole is a giant gay dumbass, obviously.”

“Thank you, Chrissy, I’m trying to get her to date me and you are helping _so much_.”

Waverly raises an eyebrow. “She’s not telling me anything about you I didn’t already know.”

Chrissy snorts and looks at Nicole. “I like this one, Nicky. She’s got a good position _and_ she knows that you’re full of shit.”

With a low groan, Nicole leans back against the couch and covers her face. “This was a bad idea,” she mumbles.

 

+++

 

They sit and talk for hours, Waverly and Chrissy debating curve balls versus risers and teasing Nicole for being ‘just a catcher’ whenever she tries to speak, Waverly making friends with the cat, Nicole stepping away for a moment to talk to her sister on the phone about something her nephew did at school.

When Waverly goes to leave, Nicole walks her out to her car.

“I hope you didn’t have the worst day ever,” Nicole jokes, opening Waverly’s door for her.

“Not at all. It was a pretty good day, actually.”

Nicole boxes Waverly against the Jeep, a small grin lighting her face. “So. You never told me.”

“Told you what?”

“Are we dating, Waverly Earp?”

Waverly stares at her for a moment before pulling her down into a scorching kiss. “Yes,” she whispers against Nicole’s lips. “Yes, Nicole Haught, we’re dating.”

“Good.”

“But… we probably should _not_ tell Wynonna.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ, no. She’d murder me.”

“So I guess I’ll have to sneak out? Come see you here? If Chrissy doesn’t mind.”

“She won’t mind. And we can go get food together sometimes so that we aren’t crowding her.” Nicole presses a kiss to the tip of Waverly’s nose, grins, and then rests their foreheads together. “Dating.”

“Dating.”

“I like the sound of that.”

 

+++

 

SIX: _(11:22)_ Want to go to lunch?

THREE: _(11:45)_ I can’t. Promised my sister I’d go w/ her. Dinner?

SIX: _(11:47)_ My place? Pizza and a movie?

THREE: _(11:48)_ Trouble with the Curve

SIX: _(11:48)_ That a movie selection or your life story?

THREE: _(11:48)_ Fuck off.

 

+++

 

THREE: _(15:02)_ Spent all morning and half the afternoon throwing practice pitches.

THREE: _(15:02)_ WORN. OUT. :(

SIX: _(15:03)_ Wanna come over? Roommate’s out. I can help you relax.

THREE: _(15:03)_ Oh really?

SIX: _(15: 05)_ …

SIX: _(15:05)_ That was not supposed to come out like that.

SIX: _(15:06)_ I swear.

THREE: _(15:07)_ Lol!!

THREE: _(15:07)_ Sure you didn’t.

THREE: _(15:07)_ Be over in 10.

THREE: _(15:10)_ TO HANG OUT

 

+++

 

They’re lying on the couch, barely watching whatever Nicole turned on the television, when Waverly says, “You know what we should do sometime?”

“What’s that?”

“I want to go to a batting cage. Like… like one of those fun, stupid, goofy batting cages from the romcoms, where we can both be in there and you can pretend to show me how to bat and get all up in my space and we can miss balls on purpose.”

“I’m not sure they exist, but we can definitely figure it out.” Nicole lightly nips at her jaw. “Anything for the chance to get all up in your space. Plus, you really _could_ use some batting tips from me…”

Waverly punches her shoulder. “ _Excuse me_ , pitchers are traditionally not that great at batting and therefore my average is _just fine_ , Haught.”

Nicole rolls them over so that she’s on top, pinning Waverly down. “You think so, do you?” She presses a few soft, teasing kisses to Waverly’s neck. “Are you perchance delusional, Ms. Earp?”

“No,” Waverly whispers as her fingers thread through Nicole’s hair and hold her in place.

The moment lingers, Nicole’s lips exploring Waverly’s available skin. Then, just as quickly, Nicole clears her throat and gently pulls back.

“Y-Your sister is going to be looking for you soon,” she mumbles awkwardly, avoiding contact with Waverly’s gaze.

“Yeah. Yeah, she will.”

The kiss for another few minutes, then Waverly taps Nicole on the hip. “I should get going, Nicole.”

 

+++

 

“Who are you off to bang?”

_“Jesus Christ!”_

“What, are you Catholic now?  I don’t think that’s how it works, Wave.”

Waverly twists around in the driver’s seat of her Jeep to face Wynonna, who is pulling herself up off of the floorboards and into the backseat.

“What the _fuck_ , Wynonna…”

She takes a swig of her beer and smirks at her sister.

“You’ve been disappearing a couple of nights a week since summer break started last month.”

“Wynonna...”  Waverly’s grip on the steering wheel tightens, her knuckles turning white.  She tries not to let her panic show.

“Ooooooh!”  Wynonna apparently draws a conclusion.  “Are you finally hooking up with that baseball player of yours?”

“What?” Waverly chokes.

“Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hottie?”

“Xavier and I are _friends_ , Wynonna.”

_“Sex_ friends?” she asks, waggling her eyebrows.

“Eww.”  Waverly reaches between the seats and punches Wynonna’s shoulder.  “He’s like my brother.  That’s gross.”

“Ow.  Watch it,” she complains, the beer in her hand sloshing over onto her leg.

“Do _not_ get beer all over my Jeep, you ass.”

Wynonna freezes while wiping at her jeans.

“Oh, shit…”  Her face goes serious.  “Please tell me you are not screwing Champ Hardy.  That is one bull you should _not_ be riding.”

Waverly makes a gagging noise.

“That rodeo clown has been after me for years.  He’d have better luck with one of the steers he ropes.”

“Oh.  Oh, God.  No.  What the fuck, Wave?  I did _not_ need to picture _that_.”

“Serves you right.  You’re the shit ticket that suggested I was sleeping with him.”

“Okay, okay!  Truce!”    Wynonna shakes her head and mumbles something about “bleach” before taking a long pull from her beer.

Waverly grins triumphantly.

“So if it’s not the hunk or the chump, who _are_ you sneaking off to have sex with all the time?”

“For fuck’s sake, Wynonna!  I am not having sex with anyone!”

“Are you sure about that, Waves?  Why is your face so red right now?”

“I’m…  I’m _not,”_ Waverly insists quietly.  “I’m not sleeping with anyone.”  She has to bite her lip to keep the “yet” from spilling out after.

Wynonna narrows her eyes, but eventually nods.

“Okay.  I believe you.  For now.”  She takes another drink and then points at Waverly around the longneck bottle in her hand.  “Just promise me you’re being careful.  Whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I am,” Waverly says, and can’t help the shy smile that tugs at her lips.  “I’m safe where I go.  I promise.”

“Alright, baby girl.”  Wynonna leans forward and presses a kiss to Waverly’s forehead.  “Go have fun.”

“Thanks, Wyn,” Waverly says as she settles back in her seat and buckles her seatbelt while Wynonna climbs out of the backseat and saunters back up to the front porch.  She rests her head against the steering wheel for a few seconds while she thinks about what a close call that had been.

“You gotta get your shit together, Earp.”

 

+++

 

SIX: _(23:56)_ I’m supposed to be writing a paper and instead I’m just staring at the pictures you took of us last weekend

THREE: _(00:01)_ Wow, I never knew you were such a sap

SIX: _(00:01)_ Shut up.

SIX: _(00:01)_ You’re really pretty

SIX: _(00:01)_ Gorgeous, even

THREE: _(00:02)_ I’d say the same but at the moment I just keep picturing you in your catcher gear and the only word I can think of is “hot”

SIX: _(00:02)_ I’d wear it for you

THREE: _(00:05)_ Good. Then I could pitch a fastball at your face and not have to worry about it

SIX: _(00:06)_ Aw, look at you getting all embarrassed

 

+++

 

When Nicole gets home from her morning run, Chrissy is packing a bag.

“Did I piss you off?” Nicole jokes. “It took way too long for this to happen, Nedley.”

“Nah, my dad is going to a coaching conference this weekend, so I’m going over to his place to babysit his bloodhound.” Chrissy gives her a pointed look. “Wynonna is going, too.”

“… Okay.”

“So maybe you should _do something with that information_.”

Nicole blinks. “I don’t…”

“I will not be here. Wynonna will not be able to check whether Waverly is coming home at night. Do the goddamn math, Haught.”

“Shit, Chrissy, are you _trying to get me laid_?”

“Well, you’re a huge wuss, so somebody’s gotta beat your head in until you get a clue.” Chrissy shoulders her bag and pats Nicole on the cheek before heading to the door. “I say that with love, Haught.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

The door shuts behind her, and Nicole stares around at the empty house. Then, hesitantly, pulls her cellphone out of her pocket.

“Hey. How do you feel about a dinner date?”

 

+++

 

“Not to be presumptuous,” Waverly says as they finish washing plates in the kitchen sink, “but I brought a bag.”

“A bag?”

“Y’know. With like. Clothes. And a-a… a toothbrush. And pajamas.”

“That’s a weird way to hit on somebody.”

Waverly bumps her shoulder against Nicole’s. “Shut up.”

Nicole catches Waverly jaw and kisses her roughly. “Never. And it’s not presumptuous. I, uh… I sort of _did_ … invite you here… for that.” She quickly adds, “And dinner! But, y’know…”

“But we’ve been dancing around this like idiots?”

“I didn’t want to make any sort of move until it felt like the right time for one.”

Waverly puts the last dish away and heads off towards the bedroom. “Trust me, Haught. It’s now.”

 

+++

 

When Nicole walks into her room, Waverly is sitting on the navy blue sheets. “If you don’t want me,” she says, “we don’t have to do this.”

“That’s a loaded question.” Nicole stops in front of her, lifting her face to look in her eyes. “Of course I want you.”

“I meant… We just don’t have to do this just because I brought stuff.”

“Waverly. I wanted you to come over so that I could seduce you. You’re just making the process easier.”

“Oh, really? I guess I should protest and make you convince me. Drag some effort out of you,” Waverly says, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Fuck you,” Nicole mumbles as she leans down to kiss her.

Waverly starts to unbutton Nicole’s shirt, her fingers skimming underneath to brush against Nicole’s skin. “That’s my intention.”

 

+++

 

They lie in bed, Nicole dozing, Waverly curled against her side and brushing soft kisses against her jaw.

“What’re you doin’, Earp?” Nicole asks sleepily.

“Nothing,” Waverly whispers. “Just reminding myself that you’re here.”

“Mm.” Nicole nuzzles her head against Waverly’s. “This’s _my_ room.”

“Shut up.”

Nicole pulls Waverly closer, wrapping her in a tight hug and resting her chin on her shoulder. “Go t’sleep, Waves. Long day t’morrow.”

“It is?”

“Mhm.”

With no further explanation, Nicole tugs Waverly closer and goes back to sleep.

 

+++

 

“Oh, holy hell.”

Nicole laughs, tossing a bat to Waverly. “They’re closed for the next three hours. We have the place to ourselves.”

Waverly looks around the batting cage facility, shaking her head. “You’re such a loser.”

“Yeah, what’s your point?” Nicole pulls Waverly’s batting helmet out of her bag and puts it firmly down on the shorter girl’s head. “At least I can hit a ball.”

“And I can hit you in the face with this bat.”

“You wouldn’t. You like kissing this face too much.”

“Fuck you.”

Nicole surges forward, picking Waverly up and pinning her back against the wall. “You already did, baby,” she says, quirking her eyebrow arrogantly.

She catches Waverly’s mouth in a kiss before Waverly can laugh, then sets her back down and holds open the door to the cage. “C’mon, Earp. Let’s get a little too close to do anything respectable.”

“This is a disgrace to our game,” Waverly snickers, shouldering the bat and stepping inside.

“Yeah, well, so is your batting average,” Nicole replies, and she ducks when Waverly swings the bat at her head.

 

+++

 

It’s close to the end of summer, and they know they won’t be able to see each other much over the months when they’re at school.

In their desperation, they start to take risks.

They’re on Waverly’s couch, making out, when Wynonna comes home hours early from a work function.

“Jeez, Waves, glad you’re getting some, but do you have to do it on my fucking couch? That’s not an _adjective_ ,” Wynonna says, laughing loudly.

Waverly, cursing in a panic, falls off of Nicole onto the floor, allowing Wynonna to see just who she was feeling up on the family sofa.

_“Are you fucking kidding me? HAUGHT?”_

“Oh shit.” Nicole scrambles over the back of the couch, crouching behind it so that only the top of her head from her eyes up is visible. “Uhm. H-Hey… Coach…”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “Nicole. Why are you behind the couch?”

“Well, at least I’m not in the closet, amiright?”

Waverly sighs heavily and leans back against the wall, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. “If she kills you, I’m not saving you.”

“That’s fair.”

_“Shut it, Haught,”_ Wynonna growls, taking a step towards the sofa. “What the _fuck_ are you doing with my sister? Are you serious? Making out with _my_ baby sister in _my_ living room on _my_ couch in _my_ house?”

“It’s my house too,” Waverly points out.

“You are _not_ helping.”

“Okay, _stop_.” Waverly steps forward, getting in front of her sister before Wynonna could make another move towards the couch. “I can kiss whoever I want to kiss. I can have sex with her, too. We’re having fun, Wynonna, and you don’t get to decide who I have that fun with.”

“The two of you have been having _sex_?”

Nicole winces. “Waves, why do you want me to die?”

“You’re a prick,” Waverly says offhandedly. “But regardless. It’s the summer, Wynonna. Cool off and let me enjoy it.” She walks around the couch, dragging Nicole up from behind it and kissing her fiercely.

“Gross,” Wynonna mutters.

“Yeah, well, we’re going to Nicole’s anyway. I’ll be back later.” Waverly grabs Nicole by the collar of her shirt and drags her towards the door.

“This conversation is not over, Haught,” Wynonna calls after them. “Do not think that it is over.”

Nicole shoots her a smirk and a shrug, then disappears out the door when Waverly gives another tug on her shirt.

 

+++

 

When Waverly comes home at eight in the morning, Wynonna is sitting in a living room chair, drinking a glass of whiskey.

“Jesus. What, _Mom_ , is it past my curfew?”

“I’ve been up all night considering whether to take the couch outside and burn it,” Wynonna says dryly.

Waverly gives a heavy sigh and lies down on it, resting her feet on the arm. “Dramatic, much?”

“You’re fucking my star batter.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t strike out much in the bedroom, either.”

“Christ, Waves.”

“Look, Wynonna, we’re adults. It’s not a big deal. We can separate any personal shit from the game.” Waverly waves a hand in the air as if brushing the situation aside. “We’ve been dealing with some tension because of our competitiveness, and the sex has been helping. Don’t make a whole production out of it.”

“Hm.” Wynonna stands to return the whiskey bottle back to the kitchen. “She’s still gonna be running laps for the rest of her life.”

Waverly shrugs and takes out her phone. “That’s fair.”

 

+++

 

“This has to be our last night before school and practice start back up,” Waverly whispers, pulling at the buttons of Nicole’s shirt.

“I know. Why do you think I took you to the _nice_ restaurant?” Nicole asks with a grin as she undoes Waverly’s belt.

“Really? I thought you were just being nice. Y’know. Like a girlfriend.”

“Nah. Fuck that.”

Waverly giggles and leans down to snap a kiss to Nicole’s mouth. “You’re an asshole. A huge, unrepentant jackass.”

“I’m also hot, though, so…”

“God, you are that.” Waverly finishes with Nicole’s shirt then skims her fingers up under the cami beneath it, brushing soft touches against Nicole’s skin. “I’m not sure what I’ll miss more while we’re at school,” she murmurs. “Your smartass mouth, your face, or the sex.”

“It can be a three-way tie.” Nicole pushes upwards, flipping Waverly onto her back, and nips a few kisses to Waverly’s throat. “Or, I can impress you enough that I can guarantee it’s the sex.”

Waverly sighs softly, threading her fingers through Nicole’s hair. “Haught,” she whispers, “I will definitely take you up on that.”


	4. Chapter 4

SIX: _(13:15)_ I’m gonna hit a home run off of you in our first game

THREE: _(13:22)_ Well I’m gonna strike you out

SIX: _(13:23)_ I’d like to see you try

THREE: _(13:26)_ _[picture message sent]_

THREE: _(13:26)_ Every time I pitch a ball, think of this photo.

SIX: _(13:31)_ ……

SIX: _(13:33)_ This is psychological warfare.

SIX: _(13:33)_ And I will not stand for it.

 

+++

 

“Practice was good today, Haught,” Wynonna says as Nicole puts her helmet away. “You’re hitting well.”

“That’s the goal, isn’t it?” Nicole pulls off her batting gloves and raises an eyebrow. “Did you want something else, Coach?”

“Yep!” Wynonna points at the field and grins. “Thirty laps.”

Nicole sighs and zips up her bag. “I should’ve expected that.”

“Yeah, Haught, you really should have.”

 

+++

 

“You’re excited to see her,” Chrissy murmurs as she watches Nicole pace back and forth, trying to read a chapter from her Victimology textbook. “Aren’t you?”

“Don’t know what you mean,” Nicole says. “We joke around a bit over texts, but that whole thing was just a summer deal. Way to blow off some energy.”

“Sure. Go ahead and tell yourself that.” She picks up her laptop and heads off towards her bedroom. “Just don’t forget how to play the game, Haught.”

“I never have,” Nicole mutters, rereading the first sentence of the chapter for the thirtieth time.

 

+++

 

“No home run,” Waverly teases as they meet behind the dugout after the game. “You were thinking about me naked, weren’t you?”

“You walked me once. I think _you_ were thinking about _me_ naked.”

Waverly’s eyes scan the length of Nicole’s body. “Mm. Might’ve, just once. Can you really blame me?”

Nicole leans in as close as she can while they’re in a public area. “Not at all, Earp. I just thought you cared more about your game.”

“I am going to _deck_ you.”

“You can’t reach my face.”

Waverly gives a soft whine. “Christ. I want you _so bad_ right now.”

Nicole glances around her quickly, then skims her hand roughly up Waverly’s torso, lingering in all the spots she knows make Waverly shudder. She then cups Waverly’s face with her hand and smirks. “Which one of us said it would be a good idea to keep this professional during the school year?”

“I-It was a mutual agreement,” Waverly stammers.

“Hm.” Nicole taps the brim of Waverly’s visor, knocking it down onto her face. “Well, we’re both _fucking idiots_.”

 

+++

 

As Waverly makes her way back towards the bus, she’s intercepted by Steph.

“What the fuck was that, Earp?”

Waverly gives a tired sigh and adjusts her bag. “What was what?”

“You _walked_ Nicole Haught.”

“Shit happens, Steph. I also got six strikeouts.”

When Waverly tries to walk past her, Steph slams their shoulders together to hold her back.

“You think you can be friends with the enemy and not be punished for it?” Steph asks in a growl.

“I think I don’t really give a shit about your opinion,” Waverly replies. She gives a sarcastic salute, then continues on towards the bus.

 

+++

 

THREE: _(21:03)_ So, the game tomorrow

SIX: _(21:04)_ Yeah?

THREE: _(21:04)_ How fast can you get changed afterwards?

SIX: _(21:05)_ Depends on my motivation.

THREE: _(21:05)_ I found somewhere we can make out.

SIX: _(21:07)_ I will change at light speed.

 

+++

 

“Y’know, I’ll say, Gus,” Nedley says as he helps her carry equipment to the storage shed behind the field, “games against your team are always interesting ones.”

Gus gives a snorting laugh. “Yeah. Because some of the other games are… to be quite frank, _boring as shit_.”

Nedley laughs and nods. “There’s that.”

She pushes open the door, and the two coaches stop dead in their tracks.

As do Waverly and Nicole, who are clearly halfway into a frantic makeout session. Waverly’s uniform shirt is hanging open, Nicole’s shirt is pulled up, their hands are tightly gripping each other’s clothing, and they’re gasping for air.

“Uhm,” Nicole rasps.

“Shit,” Waverly finishes.

Gus and Nedley exchange a glance, then just step around their players to put the equipment away.

“Dumb kids,” Gus mutters as she leaves.

“Bus leaves in ten minutes,” Nedley says gruffly. “I’ll make sure Wynonna is distracted.”

He shuts the door behind him, shaking his head as he hears a burst of relieved laughter echo from the shed.

 

+++

 

“I have a problem,” Waverly says as she walks to study hall with Dolls.

“Do I need to beat somebody up?” he asks.

“No. Well, I’ve considered it.”

Dolls laughs. “What’s going on?”

“I sort’ve. Am sleeping with a Cowboys player. The catcher who hits home runs off of me a lot.”

“Oh, hell.”

Waverly stares at him. “That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna say?”

“I’m not sure what else _to_ say,” Dolls admits. “You love her?”

Waverly scoffs. “Oh. No. Definitely not.”

“Mhm.”

_“What?”_

Dolls smirks and shakes his head. “Nothing. Just that maybe the next time someone asks you that, you should try to avoid the sappy smile before you scoff it off.”

Waverly blushes bright red and punches his shoulder. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m just saying, Earp.” Dolls shrugs and opens the door in front of them. “Your brain might not know shit, but your _face_ sure as hell does.”

 

+++

 

There’s only one more game before the tournament that closes this year’s fall season, and it’s going fine until the fifth inning.

Where Sam slides hard into home, spikes up, and intentionally railroads Nicole at the plate.

It takes both Gus and Doc, his hat pulled down to shadow his eyes, to hold Waverly back from bursting off of the bench to go for Sam’s throat. On the other side of the field, Wynonna is in a similar predicament, being restrained by Nedley. Gus’s assistant coach, Valdez, standing by third, is already walking towards Sam, screaming at her about running when she wasn’t supposed to, but before she can properly drive in the seriousness of the problem, the umpire ejects Sam from the game.

Once Sam is gone, Wynonna is finally allowed out onto the field, checking on Nicole, who hasn’t yet moved.

“Hey, kid,” Wynonna says softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got a spike to the ribs,” Nicole grumbles. “Waverly didn’t leave the bench, right?”

Wynonna glances up at her little sister, held back in the dugout and staring at the plate with desperation on her face.

“No, Nicole,” Wynonna says softly, pulling the catcher upright. “She didn’t leave the bench.”

“Good,” Nicole whispers. “I’m okay, Coach. I just need to rest for a minute. I can play.”

Wynonna pats Nicole on the cheek with what’s almost affection. “Not a chance, Haught. C’mon. Let’s get your ass off this field.”

 

+++

 

Wynonna sneaks Waverly into her office right after the game, where Nicole is sitting in a chair with an icepack on her chest.

“Jesus, Nicole, I’m so sorry,” Waverly breathes, taking Nicole’s face in her hands and kissing her roughly.

“I told McCready you were coming home with me for the weekend, Waves,” Wynonna says softly. “Take the time you need. But it can’t be forever.”

She closes the door and leaves, and Waverly kisses Nicole again.

“I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“How is this your fault?” Nicole asks, reaching up with her free hand to brush her thumb against Waverly’s cheek. “Your teammates are assholes sometimes.”

“Sam only did this to you because of Steph. And Steph only did it because she knows we’re friends.”

“Friends, huh?”

Waverly chuckles quietly. “Yeah. I know. We’re just as much girlfriends now as we were over the summer.”

Nicole kisses her, slow and soft, wincing as she bends awkwardly. “I’m okay, Waverly Earp. Now come on. Let’s get out of here.”

 

+++

 

At the next practice, Steph sneers, “How’s your friend, Earp?”

“Well, she’d be better if you weren’t a fucking prick, Steph.”

“I’m just doing what’s best for you. What’s best for the _team_. We don’t need a pitcher who can’t do anything right.”

Waverly turns towards her, but Mattie grabs her arm. “Leave it, Waverly. It’s not worth it.”

“Are you sure?” Waverly mutters.

“I’m sure.”

Waverly goes back to her practice pitches and tries to ignore the teammates behind her.

And the ball “accidentally” thrown directly at her back.

 

+++

 

Waverly’s team wins the first game they play against each other in the final tournament, and as they pass each other to shake hands, Waverly whispers, “Main bleachers. Ten minutes. Don’t change.”

Nicole meets her under the bleachers of the biggest field, currently not in use between games, still in her catcher’s gear minus the mask.

“Is there a reason for this, or is it just for fun?” Nicole asks with a laugh.

Waverly responds by shoving her up against the brick wall of the announcers’ booth that the bleachers back up to and kissing her hard on the mouth.

They make out until Nicole feels Waverly start to pull at the straps of her catcher’s gear.

“Waves,” Nicole mumbles into the shorter girl’s mouth. _“Waverly.”_

“Hm?” Waverly moves down and starts running kisses and gentle bites along the side of Nicole’s neck.

_“Fuck,”_ Nicole whispers. She clears her throat and says, “Wave, we can’t do this here. We can’t have sex under the bleachers at a goddamn tournament.”

Waverly lets out a soft groan that sends chills down Nicole’s spine. “I know. But shit. _Shit._ Goddammit, Nicole, I _want you_.”

Nicole brushes her knuckles down Waverly’s cheek. “Come to my room tonight.”

“What?”

“We’re in the same hotel for the tournament, right? Come to my room. 107.” She presses a soft, slow kiss to Waverly’s lips. “We can make love and sleep together in the same bed, Waverly Earp. And then get up tomorrow and destroy each other on the field.”

“I’m going to strike your ass out, Haught,” Waverly murmurs, stroking her hand down Nicole’s protected torso.

“I’m going to make it my mission in life to hit a home run, Earp.”

“Good.” Waverly kisses her roughly again, then says, “Wait, what about your roommate?”

“I’ll work something out with Chrissy. It’ll be fine. I promise.”

“You promise?”

Nicole spins them around, pressing Waverly up against the wall and nipping at her ear. She settles her knee between Waverly’s legs just to make her whimper, then growls, “I promise. Nine o’clock. Just after room check. I’ll be waiting for you.”

She gives Waverly a searing kiss that makes Waverly feel like she’s on fire, then playfully slaps Waverly on the ass and walks away.

“God,” Waverly says, flushed red and grinning wide, “she’s such an asshole.”

 

+++

 

They’re lying in bed together, naked, tangled up in a mess of limbs, when a sharp knock clatters against the door.

Nicole grumbles nonsense and presses a kiss to the back of Waverly’s neck before rolling over and getting out of bed. She pulls on boxers and a t-shirt as she heads for the door, assuming that there’s some sort of emergency and Chrissy locked herself out.

The moment she cracks the door, it bursts open, and Steph enters the room along with Sam, Rachel, and Sonya.

As Steph shuts the door behind her, she says, “Morning, asshole! Since you’re such an incorrigible _douchebag_ on the field, we thought we’d…”

She trails off as Waverly, disoriented from the sudden sound, sits up in bed with the sheets clutched to her chest.

“Well,” Steph whispers, her eyes narrowing like a predator spotting prey.

Nicole struggles against Sam and Rachel, who have her pinned against a wall. “Hey, if I’m a douchebag, maybe it’s because you’re a _raging bitch_ , Jones.”

Steph ignores her, taking a step towards Waverly. “You’re… _fucking_ … an enemy catcher. An enemy _batter_. No wonder this prick over here does so well against you. It’s just foreplay, isn’t it?”

“Fuck off,” Nicole snarls. She kicks out between the two girls holding her, making contact with the side of Steph’s leg. “Get the fuck out of my room, Jones, or I swear to God…”

Steph rounds on her and grabs her shirt, getting in her face and snarling, “You’re ruining the reputation of my team just by _existing_. So I’m going to make sure you can’t play tomorrow. And I’m going to make sure you’re aware of what happens if you _ever play again_.”

Nicole spits in her face, and Sonya joins the group holding her down. While they’re all distracted, Waverly sneaks out of the bed and pulls on pajamas. Then, furious, she yells, “If you touch her again, Steph, I will put you on the floor.”

“Why? Because you’re fuck buddies? This is _rich_ , Earp. I’ve heard of players being stupid before. Being _worthless_ before. But screwing during a tournament as payment for blowing a game? That’s _epic_ levels of _useless_.”

“You’d know exactly what useless looks like, wouldn’t you, Jones?” Nicole asks in a growl. “You’ve never had a good game in your life. You’re being carried through by a team far better than you, and I’m honestly _stunned_ that you’ve not been cut for some freshman who’s got actual talent.” She smirks. “Oh, I suppose in a way that already happened, didn’t it?”

Steph punches her in the face while screaming obscenities, and Sonya has to let go of Nicole both to get out of the way and to intercept Waverly before she can tackle Steph.

The door bursts open only a few seconds after the screaming starts, and Chrissy is there, holding her key and looking startled. Mattie is right there with her, rushing through the door and dragging Sonya off of Waverly.

As Mattie, Chrissy, and Waverly try to get the other girls off of Nicole, who is still screaming at Steph, a small crowd of sleepy players builds outside the room, watching in confusion.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Mattie mutters to Waverly as they both shove Rachel away.

Waverly gives a nervous laugh. “Not the time.”

_“Alright break it up!”_ Nedley yells, shoving his way into the room with Wynonna, Gus, and Valdez right behind him. “What the hell is going on here?”

“These… These _dicks_ came into my room without permission,” Nicole snarls, gesturing between the four girls.

“Oh, yeah? Well _Haught_ here was _in bed with Earp_.”

Gus sighs and rolls her eyes. “Jesus, Earp, we’re at a tournament.”

Waverly’s face goes red with shame, and she lowers her gaze to the floor. Steph gives her an arrogant look, until Gus’s gaze turns to her. “You. Don’t think I didn’t see you taking swings at that girl. And in her own room!”

“But-”

She points at Steph. “You are benched for a game for fighting.” She points at Waverly. “You are benched for a game for breaking the room code.” She points at the door. “Now all of you, _get out_.”

Steph, Sam, Rachel, and Sonya slink out, glaring at Waverly the whole way. She hesitates before she follows, checking to make sure Nicole is okay.

Nicole’s eyes flutter closed briefly as Waverly’s thumb brushes across her cheek. Then she murmurs, “I’m alright, Wave. Go on.”

Swallowing, Waverly heads out, listening to Nedley start to lay into Nicole about regulations and instigating confrontation as she goes.

 

+++

 

Waverly is almost back at her room when Wynonna catches her arm, a mixture of anger and disappointment on her face.

“What the _fuck_ , Waves? What were you _thinking_?”

“I _wasn’t_ thinking, Wynonna,” Waverly snarls, spinning around to face her. “I just… I couldn’t…” She bows her head, staring at the floor. “I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed her. Needed to _be with her_.” Her voice drops to barely a whisper. “I love her.”

Wynonna blinks, taken aback, and reaches out to grip Waverly’s shoulder. “You… I thought you just… were fucking around. Or maybe that Haught was just being a dick and banging you to thumb her nose at me. I didn’t realize… that you two…”

Waverly swallows again and nods stiffly. “I could lose this sport tomorrow and none of it would matter as long as I could keep Nicole.”

With a soft sigh, Wynonna tugs her into a tight hug. “Let’s hope you never need to make that choice, baby girl.” She gently smacks Waverly in the back of the head. “But _do not do that again_.”

Waverly laughs into her sister’s shoulder. “No promises.”

 

+++

 

At the next game, Doc sits on the bench right next to Waverly, talking idly throughout all of the innings. She’s grateful that he does it.

Steph is sitting on the other end of the bench, staring at her throughout the whole game, glaring at her like she’s going to kill her.

 

+++

 

SIX: _(03:02)_ Are you okay?

THREE: _(03:05)_ As long as you are, I’ll be fine.

SIX: _(03:05)_ Don’t worry about me. You’re all that matters.

THREE: _(03:06)_ I’m not sure that’s ever been true.

SIX: _(03:08)_ Then you’ve not liked yourself as much as I like you.

THREE: _(03:09)_ You are SUCH a sap, Haught.

SIX: _(03:09)_ Catchers are far less heartless than all you nasty pitchers.

THREE: _(03:10)_ You’re such an ass.

SIX: _(3:10)_ *Have

THREE: _(3:10)_ What?

SIX: _(3:10)_ I HAVE such an ass.

THREE: _(3:11)_ Jesus Christ.

THREE: _(3:11)_ Go to bed, Haught.

 

+++

 

They have one last practice, right before Thanksgiving break, and things are so tense on the team that Gus gives up halfway through the scheduled time and sends them all on a dozen laps to end it.

In the locker room afterwards, Mattie stops next to Waverly. “Are you okay, Earp?”

“A few whispers and a team that hates me? Why would that bother me?”

Mattie grips her shoulder tightly. “Waverly. Not everybody on the team. Got it?”

Waverly gives her a weak smile. “Got it.”

“You’re going home for break, right? Do you want me to walk you back to the dorm?”

“No, Mattie. I know you’re heading home right from here. Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

Mattie glances at Steph and Sam, huddled at Steph’s locker. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. Go on.”

“Alright then.” Mattie heads out of the locker room, and Waverly pulls a t-shirt over her head.

Less than two minutes after Mattie leaves, Waverly feels a force shove against her back, and she’s pinned against the locker next to hers, her face pressed against the metal vents.

She doesn’t have time to react or realize what’s happening before a series of blows rains down on her back, stunning her and taking her breath away. She’s turned quickly, cheek scraping against the vent, and she can see that she’s surrounded by Steph, Sam, Rachel, and Sonya. The latter three girls are holding the rolled up towels that they used to strike Waverly, and Steph is just leaning against the row of lockers across from her.

Sam hands her towel off to Rachel and grabs Waverly by the throat, holding her against the metal. She glances back at Steph and nods.

Steph steps forward, a smirk on her face, and says, “Do you know why I hate you so much, Earp?”

Waverly coughs a bit, spluttering with Sam’s hand on her neck. “Because I’m the new golden kid. I’ve got the position you want so bad. And you honest to god think that I got preferential treatment because of my sister, even though she played on a rival team.”

“You forgot one,” Steph scolds, patting Waverly on the cheek. Her pleasant voice turns to a snarl. “You’re _fucking_ Nicole Haught.”

“I’m in love with her,” Waverly replies coldly. “Not that it matters to you.”

“Actually, that just makes it worse. And it’ll make _this_ so much more fun.” Steph hauls back and lands a punch directly to Waverly’s face. “I’m going to hit you one time for every single hit Nicole Haught has gotten off of you.” She punches Waverly twice more, this time in the ribs. “You’ve got about thirty left.”

Steph hits Waverly three more times before Mattie appears out of nowhere, tackling her and knocking her away.

_“Get the fuck off of her,”_ Mattie snarls.

In seconds, the four girls are out of the locker room, and Waverly is slumped on the floor.

“Earp, are you okay? Christ.” Mattie crouches down in front of Waverly. “What the _fuck_?”

“I’m fine,” Waverly rasps, trying to wave her off. “M’alright.”

“The hell you are.” Mattie yanks Waverly to her feet. “Your stupid ass is lucky that I had a bad feeling and came back.”

“Scold me later,” Waverly grumbles. “I need a nap.”

“Nope. Sorry, Earp. That’s not where you’re going.”

 

+++

 

_“What in the hell happened to you?”_

Waverly winces, holding her ribs as she squints at Gus. “Got jumped.”

“More detail, please,” Gus says, her voice low and slow.

For a long moment, Waverly says nothing. Then she whispers, “Steph. Sam. Rachel. Sonya. Sam and Rachel and Sonya whipped me with towels a few times. Then Steph started beating me. Punching me.” She swallows. “Wanted to hit me as many times as Nic got hits off of pitches I’ve thrown.”

Gus takes in a long, slow breath. Lets it out just as slow. “Okay. You’re going to the hospital.”

“No. I’m fine.”

Her coach grits her teeth. “If you aren’t going to go to the hospital, you are _at least_ getting checked out by Doc before you go anywhere. Understood?”

Waverly nods, exhausted. “Sure, Coach.”

 

+++

 

Doc examines the bruise forming over Waverly’s eye, a frown on his face and his gaze troubled.

“You did quite a number on yourself, didn’t you?”

“Everything hurts,” Waverly sighs.

“I’d bet it does.” He straightens and lowers his hands. “Good news is, it doesn’t look like you managed to break anything. Did some minor bruising to one or two of your ribs, but you’ll be fine. It’ll just hurt.”

“Naturally.”

_“Waverly!”_

They both look up as Wynonna bursts into Doc’s office and hurries over to them.

“Jesus, baby girl,” her sister whispers, taking her face in her hands and kissing her forehead.

“I’m fine, Wynonna.”

“Is that actually true, Henry?” Wynonna asks Doc, giving him a pointed look.

“Well. She’ll be fine. And there’s not much I can do for her but tell her to take a few pain pills as needed. She has a concussion and a handful of bruised ribs. And of course, all of the fun bruises.”

“Fabulous.” Wynonna pats Waverly’s shoulder gently. “C’mon, kid. Let’s go home.”

 

+++

 

Nicole is heading home to her school housing after finishing her last class, and she steps outside to find Wynonna Earp standing in front of her building.

“Here to make me run laps?” Nicole asks, a laugh in her voice.

“Haught. You don’t go home to Missouri over Thanksgiving break, do you?”

“Uhm. No? It’s a two and a half hour flight, and my sister is usually with her husband’s family anyway, so I typically just don’t bother. Why?”

Wynonna studies her for a moment. “I think you should come home with me.”

 

+++

 

As they drive, Wynonna says, “I want you to know something. It is not bad. Okay? As bad as it looks, it’s not that bad.”

Nicole feels a weight in the pit of her stomach. “You’re starting to freak me out, Coach.”

“Then stop freaking out. Because I need you to be the person I know you can be right now. Understand me?”

“I guess?”

Wynonna stops the truck suddenly at the top of the Homestead driveway. “Do you love my sister, Haught?”

Nicole looks at her, jaw set. “With all my heart.”

“Good.” Wynonna continues towards the house. “Because that’s what she needs right now.” She sighs softly. “She won’t talk to me. Maybe she’ll talk to you.”

Confusion and fear prickle through Nicole as she gets out of Wynonna’s truck. She takes three steps towards the front door, and Waverly walks out of it.

Nicole’s breath catches in her throat.

“Christ,” she whispers.

She doesn’t say anything else. She just walks up to Waverly, very deliberately, and gently runs her thumb across one of the bruises on Waverly’s cheek.

Waverly stares up at her for a long moment. Then she bursts into tears and grabs Nicole in a hug, sobbing into her shoulder.

And Nicole just stands there, holding her, swaying slightly, whispering soothing nonsense into the shorter girl’s hair.

 

+++

 

Nicole sits on the couch, Waverly lying with her head in her lap. “If it weren’t for Mattie,” Waverly whispers, “I don’t know what would’ve happened.”

“What would’ve happened is that I would’ve killed half of your team,” Nicole mutters.

Waverly reaches up and lightly smacks Nicole on the cheek. “Behave. I’m alright.”

“No; you aren’t,” Nicole says in a murmur, pulling her knees up so that she can cuddle Waverly to her. She presses a kiss to Waverly’s forehead. “But you will be, baby.”

“I just don’t understand.” Waverly buries her face in Nicole’s shirt. “I know why they hate me,” she whimpers. “But _why_? Why _this_? Why hate me _this much_?”

“Jealousy and general dickery,” Nicole replies.

Wynonna walks into the room and sits down across from them. “You’re transferring. I don’t give a shit. McCready is a good coach, and I know she’ll try to help, but I don’t want you anywhere near Stephanie Jones.”

“No.” Waverly sits up, leaning her back against Nicole’s shoulder. “I want to know what’s going to happen now. And I’m not running from _my team_ just because of that _asshole_.”

Nicole kisses the back of her head. “You’re an idiot, Waverly Earp.”

“I know.” Waverly twists around to kiss Nicole on the cheek. “And you’re still an ass.”

“That’s why you like me,” Nicole responds with a soft grin.

 

+++

 

Nicole and Waverly are packing up to go back to school when the phone rings and, not thinking to check the caller I.D., Waverly picks it up.

“Hello?”

_“Is Waverly Earp there?”_

Waverly frowns at the unfamiliar voice. “Who may I ask is calling?”

_“This is Gary Reder from SportzZone. I was hoping I could get a quote from Ms. Earp regarding the suspension of three of her teammates and expulsion of another.”_

There’s a long moment where Waverly just stares at the wall, her brain not functioning. Then she rasps out, “No comment”, and slams the phone down.

 

+++

 

There are whispers all over campus when Waverly returns.

From what she understands, Sam and Rachel and Sonya are suspended for eight games.

Steph is kicked off the team entirely, and without her scholarship, she’s gone from the school, too, once the semester is over. And she’s been suspended until winter break anyway.

Waverly is walking towards study hall, tightly gripping her books, when Dolls jogs up beside her. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

“What happened, Earp?”

She looks up, giving him full view of the bruises on her face. “This is really only part of it,” she murmurs.

“Christ,” Dolls mumbles under his breath. “They did that?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re _sure_ you’re okay?”

Waverly sighs and leans against his arm. “Yeah, Xavier. I’m alright. And… Nicole helps.”

“Ah, right. Your catcher.”

“You don’t approve?”

“I approve of anybody who makes you happy.” Dolls shrugs. “I just think you deserve to actually be able to _see her_ without worrying so damn much.”

Waverly tightens her grip on her books. “You know, Xavier,” she whispers. “You might just have a point there.”

 

+++

 

SIX: _(18:12)_ What are you doing for Xmas break?

THREE: _(18:15)_ Not sure. Probably just gonna be home. Ignoring the calls from the stupid reporters.

SIX: _(18:13)_ Ah, you’re getting those too?

THREE: _(18:13)_ TOO?

THREE: _(18:14)_ You’re getting calls??

SIX: _(18:14)_ Yeah. I guess they put 2  & 2 together. Between the railroading, and the rumors they would’ve gotten about the hotel, and then this.

THREE: _(18:15)_ What’re we gonna do?

SIX: _(18:15)_ Come home with me for break, Earp.

THREE: _(18:16)_ What?

SIX: _(18:17)_ I’m going home to Missouri for winter break. Come with me.

 

+++

 

“So _you’re_ the mysterious Waverly Earp!” Meredith Haught exclaims as she buries Waverly in a hug.

“Merry, dear, you’re choking the girl,” Jackson Haught says with a note of amusement in his voice.

As Meredith releases Waverly, Nicole pinches the bridge of her nose and chuckles. “Er. Yeah. Mom, Dad, this is Waverly. This is my girlfriend.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Haught.”

“Sit down, sit down,” Meredith says, waving at the living room furniture. “Let’s get to know each other, shall we?”

 

+++

 

When they finish dinner, Waverly immediately stands to start helping Meredith carry the dishes back into the kitchen.

“Waves, I can-”

Waverly smacks Nicole lightly on the shoulder and picks up another plate. “I’m a guest. For a really long period of time. I can do a few chores.”

“So, you’re better than _both_ of my daughters,” Jackson jokes. “Can I adopt you?”

Nicole sticks her tongue out at her father, and Waverly laughs on her way into the kitchen.

As she delivers a plate to the sink to be loaded into the dishwasher, Meredith lightly touches her elbow to stop her before she heads back into the dining room.

“Waverly. Could I ask you something?”

“Yeah; of course.”

“Did something… happen? At school?”

Waverly feels her blood chill. “What do you mean?”

“We always watch Nicky’s games when they’re filmed. Online or on TV. And some of the ones against your team looked… violent. And then there’s that whole situation with several of your teammates being suspended. Reporters keep calling the house looking for Nicole. We even had someone call from _ESPNU_ looking for a quote. I tried to get Nicole to explain, but she said it wasn’t her story to tell…”

“Oh.” Waverly gives a long, slow sigh. “She’s probably considering it to be mine. But I… I wouldn’t want to say anything without her, either.” She meets Meredith’s gaze steadily, then says, “We both can explain.”

 

+++

 

They walk through the whole explanation. All of it. How they met, how Waverly’s team reacted to their growing friendship, how they kissed the first time, how they fell in love.

They even admitted to the incident during the tournament, where they broke the rules and slept together in the same hotel room.

_“Nicole Marie Haught,”_ Meredith scolds.

Jackson just shrugs. “Well, neither of them was gonna get pregnant.”

“Thanks, Dad. Thanks a lot for that.”

As they move on to the bad part, what happened to Waverly in the locker room, Waverly shifts over closer to Nicole, who tightens the arm she has around Waverly’s shoulders. She kisses Waverly’s temple and murmurs, “It’s okay, baby.”

Meredith and Jackson are staring at their daughter, horrified by the story but clearly proud of Nicole as well.

“So those girls… they were suspended for what they did to you, Waverly?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good riddance,” Meredith snorts.

Waverly leans heavily against Nicole and sighs. “That’s what I said..”

 

+++

 

Nicole stands in the doorway of the guest room, watching to make sure Waverly can get settled. Her mother comes up behind her, rests a hand on her shoulder, and leans up to kiss the back of her hair.

“I’m proud of you.”

“What for? Being so intolerable that the love of my life gets beaten by her own teammates?”

Meredith hugs her tightly. “For _protecting_ the love of your life.”

“Load of good I did.”

“She clearly thinks otherwise. Don’t take that for granted, baby. You’ll regret it.” Meredith skims her fingers through Nicole’s hair. “Your father and I talked. And we agreed that, uhm… if you _want_ … Waverly can sleep in your room.”

“What?” Nicole turns quickly to look at her, surprise in her eyes.

“No _sex_ , though, you little monster.”

“I’m like half a foot taller than you, Mom.”

Meredith flicks her on the nose. “And fifty percent more sarcastic than anybody else in the family.”

Nicole snorts and grins. “ _That_ is _not_ true.” She heads into the bedroom to talk to Waverly, her grin softening with happiness.

 

+++

 

“C’mon, Aunt Nicole, throw the ball!”

Nicole fidgets with the wiffle ball in her hand, squinting at her niece, six-year-old Alyssa Falco. “I dunno, kid, I think I have to intentionally walk you. You’re a power hitter.”

Alyssa puts her hands on her hips, her yellow plastic bat sticking out behind her like a tail. “You’re not _s’posed_ to walk in snow softball, Aunt Nicole!”

The ball flies down the center of the sled that indicates home plate.

“Looks like that’s a strike. You didn’t swing?”

“You’re _cheatin’_ , Aunt Nicole!”

“Yeah, Aunt Nicole,” Waverly calls from her spot at the snowman that stands for second. “Stop being a cheating cheat.”

“Excuse me, but we would _never_ cheat. Isn’t that right, Davis?”

Seven-year-old Davis Falco, standing in the catcher’s spot, folds his arms across his chest. “Yeah! We’re playin’ _just right_!”

“I’m not entirely sure _anything_ is right when you’re playing softball in four inches of snow, but, hey, we’re working it out.” Nicole catches the ball that Davis throws back to her, and she tosses another pitch.

Alyssa hits it directly into the pile of snow in front of her.

Laughing, Nicole bolts forward as Davis runs to cover the snowboard third base. She scoops up the ball and then scoops up her niece, holding her a few inches up in the air by one arm.

“New rule! When I get an out, the opposing player is held hostage!”

“This isn’t Calvinball, Nicole!” Waverly yells from third. She picks up a snowball and throws it with pitcher’s accuracy, hitting Nicole directly in the face.

Within moments, the softball game devolves into Waverly, Nicole, Alyssa, and Davis rolling around in the snow.

Meredith Haught leans over to her oldest daughter and son-in-law, Hayley and Keith Flaco, and says, “You should hire them to tire the kids out more often.”

Hayley smirks and, just a bit loudly, says, “I’m just wondering how long it’ll take them to have kids of their own.”

Waverly and Nicole freeze, lying together in the snow. Nicole, on top at the moment, grins and leans down and kisses her softly. “Not yet,” she murmurs. “But someday. When we’re ready.”

Hayley’s smirk broadens into a grin. “When you’re ready, huh?”

Waverly nods, staring up at Nicole. “Yes.”

 

+++

 

Nicole loads the last bag into the trunk of her Mustang and shuts it, turning and leaning against it to watch Waverly say goodbye to Meredith.

Jackson leans against the truck next to her, following her gaze. “You have a good one there, Nicky.”

“Trust me, Dad. I’m well aware of that.”

“Good. Because I expect you to bring her back home sometime.”

Nicole glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “I’d like to bring her home every time I come,” she mumbles.

Jackson gives her a one-armed hug and kisses her temple. “That’s my girl.”

Waverly heads over to them, grinning, and starts to say goodbye to Jackson as Meredith grabs Nicole in a crushing hug. “Stay safe, baby,” she whispers in Nicole’s ear.

“I will. I promise.”

They get into the car, and Waverly reaches over, pulling up Nicole’s hand and kissing the back of her knuckles.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“What for?”

“For giving me somewhere to escape to for a little while.”

Nicole smiles, leaning over to kiss her softly. “Trust me, baby. It’s not a problem in the slightest.”

 

+++

 

The first time Waverly walks into the locker room after winter break, everyone is staring at her.

Mattie walks up to her and slings her arm around Waverly’s shoulders, leading her to her locker. “You okay, kid?”

“I’ll have to find out.”

“From what I’ve been hearing, everybody’s on your side, if that makes you feel better.”

“A little.” Waverly stares at her locker and shudders. “I… I don’t know if I want to look at this thing.”

“We’ll get you a new one. Okay?”

Waverly leans against Mattie a bit, sighing. “That would be nice.”

 

+++

 

They play their first game without any of the teammates who tormented Waverly.

They lose, but mostly because everyone is distracted by the _staring_.

There are suddenly far more reporters at the game than usual. They spend most of the game watching every single move Waverly makes. The fans in the stands watch her, too. Some with curiosity. Some with confusion. Some with just a little bit of irritation, as if it’s _her_ fault that half of the team is banned from the bench.

When Waverly sits down after the last out, she realizes that she’s never before felt this tired.

 

+++

 

THREE: _(01:21)_ Are you up?

SIX: _(01: 25)_ I can be. What’s wrong?

THREE: _(01:26)_ Nothing. Never mind. Go back to sleep.

SIX: _(01:27)_ Waverly.

SIX: _(01:27)_ What’s wrong.

THREE: _(01:28)_ I’m just really tired. Needed someone to talk to.

 

Waverly’s phone rings, and she picks it up quickly. “Nicole?” she whispers.

_“You can talk to me whenever you want.”_

Waverly grins in spite of herself. “You’re a dork.”

_“And I love you.”_

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too.”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line, prompting Waverly to ask, “Nicole?”

_“Sorry, I just realized… We’re fucking idiots.”_

“Why’s that?”

_“That’s the first time we ever said ‘I love you’.”_

Waverly freezes, then laughs quietly. “Oh my god. Jesus Christ. What’s wrong with us.”

_“I don’t know! Because we’ve known it forever! So why are we… Wow. We’re a mess.”_

They giggle for a moment, and then Nicole says, _“So. Do you feel a little better now, woman-whom-I-love?”_

“Yes, woman-whom-I-love, I do. I’m still a little anxious about the stupid reporters, though. Everybody keeps… staring. At the games. It’s distracting.”

_“Should we picture each other naked again, or…”_

Waverly muffles another laugh. “You aren’t helping.”

_“I know. I just don’t know how to help. What do you want me to do?”_

“You being you helps.”

_“Well. That’s something I can certainly do for you.”_

“Good.” Waverly shifts in bed, getting a bit more comfortable. “Goodnight, Nicole. I love you.”

_“I love you too, Waverly Earp.”_

 

+++

 

Waverly and Nicole play against each other in the first game that Sam, Rachel, and Sonya are back.

In the third inning, Sam casually steps into the base path, knocking into Nicole.

Gus benches her for the rest of the game, and, to Waverly’s surprise, Sam looks like she’s finally getting the point.

 

+++

 

Before practice, Waverly finds herself in Gus’s office, sitting in front of her desk.

“Is something wrong, Coach?”

Gus drums her fingers against her mouse. “I’ve been talking to Nedley. About the… _situation_ , with all these damn reporters calling you and Haught all day and night trying to get soundbites about the scandalous nonsense. As if it’s still supposed to be a big deal, or whatever.”

“… And?”

“We think that, for your own sanity, it might be best to issue a statement about the situation.”

“You mean like… have the school issue a statement about what happened to cause the suspensions and expulsion?”

“Yes. And… We’d probably have to also confirm that you and Haught are currently together.”

“Oh. Well. I’m cool with that, as long as Nicole is.”

“Alright. Nedley and I will discuss what we want to do, and we’ll clear it with both of you once it’s done. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Are you sure you’re alright, kid?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I think I’m going to be a whole lot better pretty darn soon.”

 

+++

 

Nicole and Waverly meet up after a game that Waverly’s team wins, and they sit on a bench near the snack stand sharing a pretzel.

“Your teammates seem to have gotten their heads out of their asses,” Nicole comments, handing Waverly a bottle of water.

“Yeah. They’ve been pretty quiet. I think the official statement in addition to the suspensions actually taught them a lesson. Plus, with Steph gone, they don’t have their leader to egg them on.”

“I’m glad. You deserve a break.”

“You wanna know the kind of break I want?”

Nicole glances over at her. “I have absolutely no idea at all.”

Waverly tugs Nicole by the collar of her uniform and kisses her on the mouth.

“Haught, _must_ you make out with my sister out in the open like this? It makes me look bad.”

Nicole turns to look up at Wynonna as Waverly continues to kiss her jaw and neck. “Can’t I just run a few more laps, Coach?”

“You can run sprints until you puke and then I’ll make you run some more.”

“Illegal,” Nicole mutters.

“Prick,” Wynonna retorts.

“Coach, I’m a little busy right now, can we talk about this later?”

Waverly snickers against Nicole’s skin and turns her back into the kiss.

Wynonna snorts and turns on her heel, stalking away while snarling, “Until you _puke_ , Haught!”

“I’m gonna die,” Nicole mumbles into Waverly’s mouth.

“Mm. Yeah. Probably. Too bad we couldn’t have sex at least one more time before it happened.”

“Thanks a lot, Earp.”

“Shut up and spend your last five minutes kissing me.”

Nicole grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

 

+++

 

SIX: _(14:02)_ Have you had lunch yet

THREE: _(14:03)_ No?

SIX: _(14:03)_ Meet me at that McDonalds on Vineland Street in half an hour.

THREE: _(14:04)_ … Okay?

SIX: _(14:04)_ Excellent.

 

+++

 

Waverly gets out of her Jeep and is immediately picked up in a bear hug by Nicole and spun around in a full circle. She giggles and grips the back of Nicole’s neck for support.

“Nicole! What are you _doing_?”

Nicole sets her down, boxing her against the Jeep. “Hi,” she says with a grin.

“Uh. Hi?”

“How are ya?”

“Great?”

“Good!” Nicole kisses her, a bright and joyous kiss as eager as the previous hug.

“Okay, seriously, Nic, what has gotten into you?”

“I got confirmation today,” Nicole says, grinning. “I’m gonna work an internship with campus security next year. I get to be a cop. Sort of.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep!”

“Nicole!” Waverly tackles Nicole in another hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Baby. That’s awesome.”

“It’s Friday, Waverly Earp,” Nicole whispers in her ear. “Have a cheeseburger with me and then come home with me. Please.”

“Well… Gus _did_ give us a weekend off to cool off before the end of the season.”

“Good. Then you’ll come?”

“Of course.” Waverly skims her fingers across Nicole’s cheek. “Why would I pass up an opportunity for a weekend with you?”

“Probably because I’ll be spending at least some of that time writing a paper.”

Waverly laughs and kisses her again. “I’ll live with it.”

 

+++

 

They lie in bed on Sunday night, tangled together in a pile.

“I want this,” Waverly murmurs.

Nicole nuzzles against Waverly’s cheek. “Want what?”

“ _This._ Going to sleep with you. Waking up with you. I just want it. Forever.”

“You can have it,” Nicole whispers. “We’re just a little too far apart school-wise to split the difference, and our scholarships won’t pay for off-campus housing.”

“I _know_. But _still_.”

“But still.”

Waverly tightens her grip around Nicole and settles in for the night. “I’m gonna marry you someday, Nicole Haught.”

“I know, Waverly Earp.”

“But first, I’ve _gotta_ bang you in that campus security uniform you’re gonna get.”

She feels instead of sees Nicole’s grin. “I’m more than okay with that.”

 

+++

 

Waverly and Nicole play each other in the championship game that year.

Waverly’s team wins by two runs.

As they celebrate on the field, Waverly catches sight of Nicole, smiling slightly, stepping out of the dugout still in her catcher’s gear. She breaks away from the crowd and jogs over to her.

“What are you doing, Wave? Celebrate with your team.”

“I will. I just had to say that you did a good job today.”

“Well, obviously. But so did you. So _celebrate_ , Waverly.”

Waverly laughs. “I’m _going_ to, you idiot. I just have something I need to do first.” She pulls Nicole down to her and kisses her right there on the field.

There are a few whistles and shouts from the stands, and Wynonna yells something that sounds like “For hell’s sake!”

“ _Now_ I’ll celebrate,” Waverly says with a smirk.

“And _now_ I’ll go sit in misery, with my brain in overdrive,” Nicole mumbles.

Waverly pats her on the cheek. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll send you a _picture_.” With a gleeful giggle, she runs back to her team.


	5. Chapter 5

Wynonna shuffles into the kitchen and accepts a mug of coffee from Waverly with a thin smile.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. “Where’s your lesser half?”

“Cute.” Waverly jerks a thumb towards the window over her shoulder. “She’s outside.”

“It’s six A.M.”

“Mhm.”

Curious, Wynonna makes her way to the porch just as Nicole is jogging past.

“The hell are you doing, Haught?”

Nicole grins at her and turns around to jog backwards while looking at her coach. “Laps. That’s what I’m meant to do, right?”

Wynonna stares at her. “You’re a cocky son of a bitch, you know that?”

“Yeah, well.” Nicole shrugs. “Athletes, right?”

“Keep running, Haught. You’d damn well better _keep running_.”

With a laugh, Nicole turns back around and picks up her pace, sprinting out towards one of the outer fences.

 

+++

 

A little after midnight, Waverly pats Nicole on the cheek to wake her up. “Hey,” she whispers.

“Hey,” Nicole mumbles. “What’s wrong?”

“Wynonna just got home. She’s passed out on the couch.”

“… Okay?”

“C’mon. Let’s sneak out.”

“Uhm. Okay. Why did we have to wait for Wynonna for that?”

Waverly grins down at her. “Because we’re swiping her truck.”

 

+++

 

They lie in the bed of Wynonna’s pickup, gazing up at the stars and drinking raspberry Smirnoff. “What do you want to do? When all of this is done?” Nicole asks softly.

“I’m going to go for my Master’s. Same school, though, if they’ll take me.” Waverly snuggles a bit closer against Nicole’s side. “And then, I… I want to be a curator.”

“You mean like at a museum?”

“Yeah.”

Nicole thinks for a long moment. “Can I get a dog?”

Waverly laughs as she takes another sip of vodka. “Sure? Why do you need my permission?”

“Well, when we’ve graduated, and I’m working for campus security and you’re getting your Master’s. I figured you’d want some input on that choice.”

“You know, Nicky, I can’t guarantee that I’ll be getting a museum job around here,” Waverly says softly.

“Yeah? And? There’s a lot of police stations.”

Waverly runs her fingers along Nicole’s jaw, pulling her into a slow, easy, raspberry-flavored kiss. “I love you, Nicole Haught.”

“Good.”

“Good? That’s all?”

“I’m still waiting to make sure I can get a dog.”

Waverly, laughing again, downs the rest of her vodka and rests her cup down next to her on the bed, then rolls on top of Nicole. “Yes, Six, you can get a dog.”

“Excellent. I love you, too.”

“Fabulous.” Waverly starts unbuttoning Nicole’s shirt. “Let’s have sex.”

“Wha- _Jesus_ , Waverly, this is _Wynonna’s truck_.”

“Mhm. Your point?”

Nicole blinks up at her. “She’ll fucking kill me.”

“Only if she finds out.”

Nicole groans softly. “You’ll be the death of me, Waverly Earp.”

Waverly kisses her and continues undoing the buttons of the plaid shirt. “You’re overdramatic.”

“I think we _both_ have that flaw, baby.”

“I’d believe it.”

 

+++

 

Nicole and Waverly wake up in the back of the truck, still in the field at the edge of the lake, at eight o’clock in the morning.

“Oh, shit,” they say simultaneously.

“I’m dead,” Nicole says, scrambling to put her shirt on. “I’m gonna be running laps around the entire Ghost River Triangle until I’m eighty.”

Waverly watches her, still half-naked, an amused look on her face. “You’re quite concerned about this, aren’t you.”

“Waves. Wynonna is gonna wake up on the couch with a hangover and a missing truck. Even if she doesn’t notice that _we’re_ gone…”

After a few seconds of thought, Waverly sits up and pulls her t-shirt on. “Yeah. You have a point. We should go.”

 

+++

 

“What the _fuck_!” Wynonna snarls, standing on the porch waiting as Nicole and Waverly pull back up to the house. “Are you two serious? What the fuck were you doing with my truck?”

“Nothing,” Waverly replies, holding a paper bag full of plastic cups and vodka.

“Uh huh. How much liquor is in that bag?”

“Please, sis. There’s only two of us. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Wynonna sticks her finger in Nicole’s face. “I’m blaming you, Haught.”

“What? Why me?”

“Just because!” Wynonna rests her hand on Nicole’s shoulder and grins viciously. “You should be thanking me, though, Nicky.”

“Wh-Why?”

Wynonna takes the bag from Waverly and turns to head back into the house. “Because if I was in a worse mood, I might’ve made you run laps with a hangover.”

Waverly pats Nicole on the back. “She loves you. Kind of.”

Nicole sighs heavily. “Uh-huh. You don’t really make it easy, though, do you?”

Waverly grins at her. “It’s part of my charm.”

 

+++

 

“Lookin’ good, Waves.”

“Ugh.  Not now, Champ.”

Waverly rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her beer, feeling Nicole stiffen next to her.  Wynonna just snorts from her other side.

Champ drops a thick hand on her shoulder and spins her around on the bar stool to face him.

“Aww c’mon, Wave.  Why don’t you come with me and I’ll show you a little somethin’ about hitting home runs and scoring.”

He lays the smug, boyish charm on thickly, but Waverly only makes a gagging sound when he smirks.

“Sorry, Champ.  Looks like all you’re capable of is striking out.”

He leans in closer, a cloud of cologne taking Waverly’s breath away.  Nicole’s knuckles turn white around her beer bottle.

“You could bring your friend along, too.  We’ll make it a doubleheader.”

Nicole is pushing out of her stool, but Waverly stops her with a hand on her chest.

“I’ve already got other plans for my _friend,”_ she says, grabbing Nicole by the collar and dragging her down into a rough kiss.

“Now _that’s_ what I’m talkin’ about!” he crows, waggling his eyebrows.  “I’d call that a perfect game.”

Wynonna knocks the lecherous grin right off of his stupid face.

“Oww!” he whines, rubbing his jaw.  “What the fuck, Wyno—”

He doesn’t get to finish his tantrum because Wynonna has him by the ear and is literally dragging him out of the bar.  She tosses him out the front door, where he lands on his ass and pouts up at her.

“Jesus, you can’t ju—”

“Listen, rodeo clown.  If you ever come near my sister again, you won’t even last eight seconds, got it?”

Champ opens his mouth to complain, but Wynonna is already walking back into Shorty’s.  She dusts her hands off with a grin as she returns to the bar.

“Well.  Now that the trash has been taken out, we can get ba—”  Wynonna groans.  “Oh, hell.”

Waverly and Nicole are still locked at the lips, and Waverly has managed to crawl into Nicole’s lap, straddling her on the barstool with her fingers buried in her hair.

“Okay, you two.  You can stop now.  He’s gone.”

Nicole’s arms tighten around Waverly’s waist as they continue kissing.

“Guys.  Seriously.  Come on.”

They either don’t hear her, or don’t care.  One of them makes a rather obscene noise.  Wynonna isn’t sure who.

“Guys…”

Waverly pulls one of her hands out of Nicole’s hair and flips Wynonna off over her shoulder, sticking her tongue farther into Nicole’s mouth.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Wynonna grumbles and orders a shot of whiskey.

It’s going to be a long night.

 

+++

 

Waverly and Nicole set up behind the Homestead with a bucket of softballs, catcher’s shin guards, and their gloves.

“Christ,” Nicole says, shaking her hand as she throws the ball back to Waverly. “It’s hard to get a real read on how hard you’re pitching when I’m at the plate. Catching it hurts like fucking hell. Mattie must’ve been a saint.”

“She really was,” Waverly says quietly. “I don’t know what I’ll do without her this year.”

“Right. She graduated?”

“Yeah. It’s… I don’t know. Gus said that she had a few prospects lined up that should do well on the field. But they won’t be able to replace what Mattie did for me _off_ of it.”

Nicole walks over to her and kisses her gently. “Hey. You’re gonna be okay. I promise. You’re not gonna let any assholes ruin your senior year.”

Waverly gives her a weak smile. “I wish I had your confidence, Nic.”

“You do have it.” Nicole hugs her firmly. “All you’ve gotta do is ask.”


	6. Chapter 6

In their first game against each other, Waverly realizes that she and Nicole have, somehow, become some sort of minor celebrities in the college softball world.

As they walk around the tournament afterwards, players from dozens of teams stop them and ask them questions.

Whether the suspensions were really for what everyone says they were for.

Whether the kiss on the championship field the year prior actually happened.

Whether the two of them were dating, or still are.

Waverly can feel a bit of smugness entering Nicole’s bones with every single question about their dating life, and by what feels like the fifty-eighth query, Nicole has her arm slung around Waverly’s neck and an arrogant grin on her face.

Before another question can be asked, Waverly tugs Nicole down a small hallway leading into a storage area.

“You need to be taught a lesson, buddy,” Waverly grumbles.

“I do?”

“ _Smugness_ isn’t attractive.”

Nicole pushes forward, pinning Waverly against the wall. “In me it is, and you damn well know it, Earp.”

Waverly groans under her breath and yanks Nicole into a kiss. They make out for as long as possible, until Waverly hears the crackle over the loudspeaker that she knows means it’s almost time for her next game.

She extracts her hand from its spot halfway up the back of Nicole’s jersey and takes a few steps away, catching her breath with a grin. “We’ll talk later,” she says, then sprints off towards her field.

Nicole leans against the wall, her uniform an utter mess.

“Damn,” she whispers.

 

+++

 

Nicole meets Waverly at a restaurant for lunch on Waverly’s birthday, still wearing her campus security polo and khakis.

“Jesus,” Waverly whispers as she watches Nicole sit down. “I always forget how goddamn hot you are in that uniform.”

“You could’ve stopped at ‘how goddamn hot you are’, but I do agree that the uniform only adds to my charm,” Nicole replies with a broad grin.”

Waverly rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yeah. I know that already.” Nicole hands Waverly an envelope. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Oh, you remembered?” Waverly jokes, opening it up. She immediately freezes, jaw dropping slightly.

“Er. Is that bad shock or good shock?”

“You got me _baseball tickets_?” Waverly bolts out of her seat and kisses her. “ _Good_ baseball tickets, too!”

Nicole laughs as Waverly sits back down, practically vibrating. “Yeah. Well. It’s a bit more than that. Uhm. I figured we could go back my way after graduation? I could show you around St. Louis. The Rays are playing the Cardinals.”

“We will absolutely be doing that. I love you.”

Nicole laughs again, reaching out to play with Waverly’s fingers. “I love you, too. Y’know. Even though you’re a pitcher.”

 

+++

 

SIX: _(15:42)_ My parents are coming down for a few days next week.

THREE: _(15:50)_ That’s great! I wish I could see them.

SIX: _(15:51)_ Well. You could.

THREE: _(15:52)_ ?

SIX: _(15:54)_ They want to go to dinner. With me.  & you & Wynonna.

THREE: _(15:57)_ Oh.

THREE: _(15:58)_ That’s fine

SIX: _(15:58)_ It’s fine if you don’t want to

THREE: _(15:59)_ Lol, Nic, it’s alright. Let’s do it. What could go wrong?

SIX: _(16:00)_ You had to say it, didn’t you

 

+++

 

Dinner between the Haughts and the Earps is awkward, mostly because Wynonna is being so polite.

She gently teases Waverly when she can, like a good big sister should, but she’s relaxed around Nicole and incredibly gracious towards her parents.

“Kid’s gonna be rich and famous someday,” Wynonna laughs as she finishes talking about Waverly’s schooling, winking and tapping her sister on the cheek. “Though I guess she already _is_ a bit famous.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Waverly finally blurts out, staring at Wynonna.

“Hm?”

Nicole covers her face with her hand and sighs.

Waverly, flushed red, rambles out, “Well… I-I… you… you’re usually much more _snarky_ and _jackassish_ than this. You’re… You’re being… polite… and reasonable… and it’s weirding me out.”

Wynonna doesn’t even react as she takes a sip of her wine. She points at Nicole’s bewildered parents. “Player’s parents. I’m a _coach_ , Waves. I do have some level of professional tact.”

Meredith and Jackson both laugh, and Jackson pats his daughter on the back. “Don’t worry so much, Coach Earp. Right now, right here, you aren’t Nic’s coach. You’re her girlfriend’s sister. There’s no need for so much formality.”

Wynonna grins and stares directly at Waverly as she says, “Guess I’ll switch the wine with whiskey, then.”

“No.” Waverly reaches out and covers Wynonna’s mouth with her hand. _“No.”_

Nicole turns her head towards her father. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Jackson asks with a grin.

“Leaving Hayley at home.”

 

+++

 

Nicole goes into a hitting slump towards the end of the fall season, struggling to get even one hit every game.

Right before winter break, after all of the other players have stopped practice for the year, Wynonna finds Nicole on the field, obsessively taking pitch after pitch from the machine in the batting cages.

“Haught, what are you doing?”

For a moment, Nicole doesn’t seem to have heard her. Then, as she swings so desperately that she throws herself into the path of the next pitch and catches one in the ribs, she grunts, “I have to stay excellent. I have to be as excellent as her. _For_ her. I’ve got to live up to how excellent _she_ is. Otherwise, I’m not good enough for her.”

Wynonna watches her for several silent seconds. Then, softly, she says, “Take a minute to make sure you didn’t hurt your ribs. And then I’ll just… I’ll stay here, okay? Make sure you don’t need anything?”

Nicole lowers her bat briefly, tapping it against her spikes. “Yeah. Yeah, Coach, that would be great.”

 

+++

 

Waverly and Nicole stay at the Homestead over winter break, and Nicole spends most of her time running laps and doing hitting practice in the fields.

“Are you okay?” Waverly asks, heading out to her at one point, concern in her eyes. “It’s getting dark, Nicky. Come inside.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Nicole replies, frustration biting at her tone. “I just… I can’t… _do it._ ”

“So many jokes,” Waverly mumbles under her breath. “Okay. Just stop for a minute.” She pulls Nicole over to her and sits down in the grass, making Nicole lie down and rest her head in Waverly’s lap. She cards her fingers through Nicole’s hair and whispers, “It’s going to be alright, Nicole. Sometimes this shit just happens. Trust me. I understand. You just need to relax. You’ll never fix it by standing out here and practicing repeatedly for days on end.”

“I just want it to stop,” Nicole whispers.

Waverly leans down and presses a kiss to her lips. “I know, baby. But why don’t you spend the rest of break taking a _break_. Alright? Promise me.”

Nicole, drifting off under the soothing motion of Waverly stroking her hair, nods sleepily. “I promise.”

 

+++

 

When they meet up after their first game against each other during the spring season, they rest against the dugout eating a soft pretzel.

“I’m not supposed to get one of these unless I get a home run,” Nicole says.

“You got two hits,” Waverly replies, threading her fingers with Nicole’s. “I’m counting it.”

Sam, Rachel, and Sonya walk past, pointedly ignoring them.

“How has the snob crew been?” Nicole asks darkly.

“Snobby. But not, you know, violent or aggressive or actively bullying me, so I’m fine with that.”

“Good. Because otherwise I was gonna have to fight them, and that wouldn’t have been good for anybody.”

Waverly chuckles and kisses Nicole on the cheek. “How chivalrous.”

“You know how I try.”

 

+++

 

Waverly pitched well.  She always does.

But Chrissy was on _fire_.

“I guess neither of us gets snacks this time,” Waverly jokes as they sit on the bleachers together after the game.

“Hey,” Nicole says, poking her in the ribs.  “I got two hits today.”

“Mmm.  But I also struck you out twice,” Waverly counters, pushing Nicole’s head to the side.  “One of these days, you’ll learn how to hit a changeup.”

“Maybe I should give her lessons on that,” Mattie says, appearing behind them with Chrissy at her side.  “But not until after the playoffs,” she adds, tossing a bottle of Gatorade at Nicole.

Nicole catches it one-handed against her stomach with an _oomf_.

“Red?”   Nicole scrunches up her face.   “What is this blasphemy?”

“As if I’d be caught dead buying that Lemon-Lime shit,” Mattie scoffs.  “At least it’s Fruit Punch.  The _good_ red.”

“Fair point,” Nicole agrees, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink.  “What’s this for, anyway?” she asks, offering the bottle to Waverly.

“You think we don’t know about your little arrangement?”  Chrissy laughs and shoves a soft pretzel into Waverly’s hands.

“What…?” Waverly asks, confused.

“You struck her out, Wave,” Chrissy clarifies.  “Twice.  That means a pretzel, right?”

“Yeah, but…”  Waverly shrugs.  “We lost, s—”

“We lost because this one still managed to drive in the winning run,” Mattie cuts her off, nodding her head at Nicole.  “That deserves a Gatorade, right?”

“It wasn’t a home run, though,” Nicole reminds them.  “Just an RBI single.”

“It was the _only_ run, Haught.  The _only_ RBI.”  Mattie rolls her eyes.

“And the prize for that is still a pretzel,” Nicole teases.

Mattie crosses her arms.  “Just shut up and drink your Gatorade before I change my mind.”

“Yes, ma’am.”  Nicole grins and gives her a mock salute.

Waverly rips off half of the soft pretzel and hands it back to Chrissy.

“You’re the one that deserves this.  Complete game shutout?  Only two hits?  Dude, you had _thirteen_ strikeouts.”

Chrissy ducks her head as she pops a piece of the pretzel in her mouth.  “It’s the best game I’ve ever pitched,” she says shyly, trying to hide a smile.  It doesn’t work.  She’s beaming by the time she looks back up at them.

“I’d say,” Mattie pats her on the back.  “That’s the kind of game you can hang your career on.”

“Thanks, Mattie,” she says, still grinning.

“You’re only saying that because you got both of the two hits,” Nicole jokes, nudging the rival catcher with her elbow.

“Maaaaaybe,” Mattie laughs and throws her hands up when Chrissy tosses a piece of the pretzel at her.  “And one of them was even off of a changeup,” she adds, smirking at Nicole

Sam, Sonya, and Rachel walk by, grumbling to themselves as they watch their teammates socializing with their opponents on the bleachers.

“It’s called sportsmanship!” Mattie yells after them.  “You should try it sometime!”

The four of them snicker as they pass the Gatorade bottle around and finish off the rest of the soft pretzel.

“We’d better get going,” Chrissy finally says.  “Nedley’s gonna be grumpy if we’re not on the bus soon.”

_“Nedley?”_  Waverly quirks an eyebrow.  “Don’t you mean _Dad?”_

“He’s not Dad when we’re on the field.”  Chrissy waves a dismissive hand at her, drawing a laugh from the rest of them.

“I’d be more worried about Wynonna than your dad,” Nicole teases before leaning in to give Waverly a quick kiss.  “Pretty soon, she’ll start making you run laps with me.”

“Ugh.  God.  No.”  Chrissy pushes Nicole off the bleachers and drags her off toward the parking lot, laughing the whole way as they wave over their shoulders.

Waverly watches them go, her smile so wide it makes her cheeks hurt.

 

+++

 

Waverly hasn’t slept in a day and a half, pushing herself to the breaking point as she tries to study for her finals, all shoved in within a two day period to make up for games.

Nicole, already done with all of her papers, lounges on Waverly’s bed and watches her, concern etched on her face. “Baby,” she says softly. “You need to stop.”

“No. I need to _study_.”

“You already know it all,” Nicole protests, getting up and heading over to Waverly’s desk. “You need sleep. C’mon.” She brushes her knuckles against her girlfriend’s cheek. “Come lie down with me for a bit.”

“Fuck _off_ , Nicole!” Waverly snarls, surging to her feet so fast that Nicole is knocked a few feet backwards. “You and your cocky catcher bullshit can just fuck off!”

“W-Wave-”

“I don’t need your advice! I don’t need your opinion! I don’t need _sleep_! I just need to _study_ so that I can ace my fucking finals! So fuck! Off!” Waverly grabs her laptop, her textbooks, and her backpack and storms towards the door. “Show yourself out!”

The door slams behind her, leaving Nicole alone in the room, utterly bewildered.

 

+++

 

It’s nine o’clock at night, and Nicole opens her front door to find Wynonna standing on the porch.

“Uh… hey, Coach.”

“Come with me.”

Nicole glances behind her at Chrissy, shrugs, and follows Wynonna out to her truck. “You aren’t gonna bury me in the Everglades or something, are you?”

“No.”

“O… kay.”

They drive out to a bar in town, and Wynonna drags her inside, sits her on a stool, and orders her a beer.

“Drink, Haught.”

“We’re in season, aren’t I supposed to-”

Wynonna raises an eyebrow at her.

“… Alright, a beer.” Nicole takes a sip, confused, as Wynonna slowly drinks her own.

After several minutes, Wynonna says, “My sister is an idiot.”

“Sometimes. Yes.”

Wynonna pats Nicole on the shoulder roughly. “She’ll get over it. At least. This particular instance of it.”

Nicole gives a half-hearted grin. “I certainly hope so.”

 

+++

 

The following weekend, Waverly shows up in Nicole’s room, let in by Chrissy.

“I’m sorry,” Waverly and Nicole say at the same time.

Waverly laughs and shakes her head, brushing Nicole’s hair off of her face. “ _I’m_ sorry. I’m the one who was an ass, Nicole. I was a jerk. And you were just trying to help. And I’m sorry.”

“I was just scared,” Nicole murmurs, leaning back in her desk chair. “You looked exhausted. And you should have a bit more faith in yourself, because I knew that you’d do fine without the cram session.” She trails her fingertips up Waverly’s arm. “You’re brilliant, Waverly Earp. Don’t hurt yourself trying to prove it.”

Waverly cups Nicole’s face in her hands. “You’re pretty smart, too.”

“Yeah.”

“Mhm. Smart _mouthed_ , but it’s still a talent.”

Nicole grins. “Is that right?”

Waverly smirks and kisses her quickly. “Yes.”

Nicole moves swiftly, picking Waverly up around her hips and lying both of them down on the bed. She presses a long, slow kiss to Waverly’s lips and then murmurs, “Let’s see what I can do with it.”

 

+++

 

Nicole and her team go out for dinner right before the postseason starts. As Nicole goes to leave afterwards, heading out to her car, she finds that one of the front tires has a knife sticking out of it.

“What the… fuck?”

“Sucks to have your night ruined, doesn’t it?” a familiar voice says from behind her. “How do you think it feels to have your _life_ ruined?”

Nicole turns around slowly, coming face-to-face with Stephanie Jones.

“Steph,” Nicole says cautiously, “whatever the hell it is you think you’re doing, it isn’t a good idea.”

The only response she gets is a fist to the face.

Nicole has an advantage in height, but a year and a half off the softball team hasn’t ruined their equal match in strength. They scuffle for what feels to Nicole like twenty minutes but is really closer to four, until there’s a shout from the restaurant and Chrissy, Wynonna, and Nedley sprint outside, pulling them apart.

As Nedley restrains Steph and Chrissy calls 9-1-1, Wynonna sits Nicole down on the trunk of her own car and takes her face in her hands.

“How many fingers, Haught?”

“You aren’t holding any up,” Nicole mutters.

“Good. Are you alright?”

“Just a little bruised.” Nicole groans and leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “Ow.”

“Looks like she managed to miss your eye,” Wynonna comments, lifting Nicole’s chin to study her face again. “Which is lucky for you. You might not miss the end of the season.”

“I’d probably go over there and kill her if I did.”

Wynonna smiles softly. “That’s the spirit.”

Nicole glances at Chrissy. “We don’t need to call the cops. I don’t give a shit about her. She’s just a bitter hack.”

“Maybe you don’t,” Wynonna murmurs. “But what if, next time, she wants to target Wave?”

There’s a long moment where Nicole just stares at her.

“Call the cops.”

Wynonna presses a soft kiss to Nicole’s temple. “Good kid.”

 

+++

 

“I’m going to kill her.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Can I deck her?”

“No.”

“… Kick her in the shins?”

Nicole grins and lifts Waverly’s hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “No, Waverly, you cannot retaliate against Steph Jones.”

“Dammit.”

“I’m fine. I promise. Nothing’s broken; I just have a bunch of bruises and a few scrapes. I’m only gonna miss one game.”

“You shouldn’t miss _any_.” Waverly strokes Nicole’s cheek. “I can’t believe she’d go this far.”

“Anger and disappointment can do a lot to a person. At least I managed to give her two black eyes.”

“And you _didn’t_ break your hands?”

Nicole shrugs. “I’m a lucky bastard.”

Waverly laughs weakly and shakes her head. “Yeah. Yeah, you are.”

 

+++

 

It’s the final inning and final out of the championship game, and one run will let Nicole’s team win.

And, as if fate has stepped in, Nicole and Waverly are up against each other, battling to see who will win.

One last pitch for both of their careers.

They stand there, staring at each other, absorbed in the game and absorbed in each other, and for a brief moment they grin at each other.

Because they know that, no matter what, it’s going to be okay.

Waverly sends the perfect pitch, just on the inside corner.

And Nicole makes the perfect hit.

A single right up the middle, buzzing past Waverly’s ear, into the outfield just enough for her to safely get to first.

And to score the runner on third.

There’s screaming and shouting and yells of celebration, but in that second of victory none of it matters.

From first base, Nicole stares at Waverly.

From the pitcher’s mound, Waverly stares at Nicole.

And they grin again, because they know.

They’ve _both_ won.


	7. Chapter 7

They get to St. Louis mid-morning on Friday.  It’s too early to check in to their hotel and Nicole asks Waverly what she’d like to do in the meantime.  She instantly regrets it when Waverly’s immediate answer is an enthusiastic _shopping_.

Nicole takes her to the Galleria in Brentwood and watches her face light up when they enter through the Grand Concourse.  She lets Waverly drag her around all afternoon, carrying her bags for her and buying her a soft pretzel from Auntie Anne’s to snack on.

When they decide they’re both hungry enough for dinner, Nicole stuffs the bags around their luggage in the trunk and drives them to Union Station.

“Hard Rock Café?” Waverly asks, eyes wide as they walk across the parking lot.

“Yeah…  Is that okay?”  Nicole frowns and looks over her shoulder.  “There’s other restaurants inside the Station.  We don’t have to go here.”

“I’ve never been to one,” Waverly breathes, pulling Nicole toward the entrance with excitement.

“You’re in for a treat, then,” Nicole grins, holding the door open.

They browse the memorabilia while they wait for a table, Waverly absorbing every word on every placard, and she insists on buying them matching t-shirts before they go sit down to eat.  Waverly orders an enormous salad and then ends up stealing half of Nicole’s fries anyway when she’s busy cutting her steak.  But when she’s about to order dessert, Nicole cuts her off and asks for the check instead.

“It’s not just the offseason, Nicole.  We’ve _graduated,”_ Waverly folds her arms.  “We’re _allowed_ to have dessert now,” she pouts, trying to hide her disappointment.

“Oh, I know,” Nicole says with a smirk.

“Then why did you ask for the check before I could order some?”

“You’re allowed to have dessert.”  Nicole leans in and winks.  “We’re just not having it _here.”_

“If this your way of trying to get laid, you’ve made a serious miscalculation,” Waverly says, still pouting.

Nicole just laughs.  “Get your mind out of the gutter, Earp.  I’m not talking about that kind of dessert.”

The waiter returns before Waverly can interrogate her any further.  Nicole pays and then slides out of the booth, offering her hand to Waverly.

“If you want your dessert, you’re gonna have to quit sulking and come with me.”

Waverly takes her hand begrudgingly and lets Nicole lead her out of the restaurant and across the parking lot.

“Did you know that the St. Louis Union Station used to be the busiest train station in the world?”

“No?” Waverly raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Mhm.  Being the Gateway to the West, at one time it combined the passenger services of twenty-two different railroads.  That was the most of any single terminal in the world.”

“I thought _I_ was supposed to be the one that was gonna work in a museum.”  Waverly looks up at Nicole, squeezing her hand.

“Sorry,” Nicole says a bit sheepishly.  “I used to love coming here when I was a kid.  Part of it is still sectioned off with one of the old steam train engines.”

“That’s all well and good,” Waverly says, “but I still don’t know what that has to do with my dessert.”

Nicole looks up at the sky and laughs, throwing her arm around Waverly’s shoulder and pulling her close.

“You pitchers and your one-track minds.”

Waverly just huffs, but she leans into Nicole’s side just the same.

When they enter the Station, Nicole directs them past a few of the storefronts, not giving Waverly a chance to get distracted, and pulls them to a stop in front a shop with an open area under a domed ceiling.

“The Fudgery?” Waverly reads the sign, craning her neck to see what’s beyond the counter.  “We’re having fudge for dessert?”

“No,” Nicole grins.  “We’re having the most amazing homemade fudge _ever_ for dessert.”  Waverly rolls her eyes.  “But that’s not even the best part.”

“It’s not?” Waverly asks with a crinkled brow.

“Nope,” Nicole says, popping the _P_.

Just then, the clerk comes out from the back, sees them standing there, and hollers _“It’s fudge time!”_ at the top of her lungs.

“What…”

Five more men and women immediately appear from the back, marching out to the rhythm that two of the men are singing.

“What…” Waverly asks again, and Nicole can’t contain her glee as she watches Waverly’s face.

The clerks suddenly break out into song, barbershop quartet style, making use of the incredible acoustics from the open area.  As they sing an a cappella version of _My Girl_ , they pull and stretch the fresh warm fudge along the stone countertops, almost as though it was taffy.  They finish the first song and transition into _Isn’t She Lovely_ while they smooth the cooling fudge out, eventually cutting it into perfect slices.

“Holy shit…” Waverly whispers, unable to tear her eyes away while they sing and work.

Nicole buys a half a pound of the white chocolate fudge and a half a pound of the chocolate walnut fudge and lets Waverly use the plastic spoon they gave her to eat out of both boxes while they stand there listening to a couple more songs.  When they’re finished, Waverly claps loudly and shoves a generous tip into the jar, then slides her arm through Nicole’s and practically skips as Nicole leads them back out to the car.

“Was that worth waiting for?” Nicole asks smugly when they are back on the road.

“Don’t ruin it,” Waverly says, sticking out her tongue.  She watches the city’s night skyline out the window for a few minutes and then turns back to Nicole, lacing their fingers together on Nicole’s thigh.  “It was amazing,” she says quietly.

“I love you, baby,” Nicole says, squeezing Waverly’s hand once before returning hers to the steering wheel again.

“I love you, too.”  Waverly leaves her hand on Nicole’s thigh, her fingers idly tracing patterns.  “Now let’s go get checked into our hotel so we can have the rest of our dessert.”

Nicole’s grip on the steering wheel tightens and she swallows hard.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Waverly Earp.”

 

+++

 

Nicole is still naked and tangled up in the sheets, snoring softly, when Waverly walks out of the bathroom fresh from the shower, her hair wrapped up in a towel and wearing her Rays jersey.  She pads over to the bed quietly, unwraps the towel, and then wrings her still wet hair out right in the center of Nicole’s bare back.

“What the fuck!” Nicole yelps as she flips over, startled awake and disoriented.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Waverly says with a sing-song voice, smiling sweetly.

“Mmmf,” Nicole mumbles, already face down in the pillow again.

Waverly crawls on top of her, straddling her hips, and lets her hair drip on Nicole’s shoulders.

“Fuck, Waves,” Nicole groans.   _“Why.”_

“It’s game day, baby!” she giggles, squirming dramatically on top of her girlfriend.

Nicole manages to turn over underneath her and cracks a sleepy eye open.

“Shhhhhh…”  She reaches out to press a finger to Waverly’s lips.  “Shut your talky, talky mouth.”

“Maybe you should make me,” she says, biting Nicole’s finger playfully.

Nicole’s other eye opens.  There’s a moment of silence, and then she flips them over, pinning Waverly to the bed.

“My pleasure.”

 

+++

 

They draw several strange looks, but it doesn’t stop them from walking around the outside of Busch Stadium hand in hand.

“I know this is the Midwest and everything, but you’d think people would be over two women holding hands in public by now,” Waverly mutters after a while.

Nicole laughs and kisses the top of her head.

“That’s not why they’re staring at you, Wave.  It’s because of what you’re wearing.”

Waverly looks down at her Rays jersey and rolls her eyes.

“Evan Longoria, huh?” Nicole asks.  “I’m surprised you’re not wearing an Archer jersey or something.  A pitcher.”

“Archer fizzled after his breakout year and they were stupid enough to trade Price to the Tigers.  Tampa Bay is _not_ the right team if you want to be a fan of the pitching staff.  Besides,” she says, pointing at the large number three.  “He’s got my number.”

“He’s also the only player on your team that’s worth a damn,” Nicole laughs and Waverly shoves at her playfully.

“You’re one to talk.  Wearing the jersey of a guy that played seventy years ago just because he’s got your number.  Why not Yadier Molina?  He’s a catching _stud.”_

Nicole absentmindedly traces the number six stitched onto her custom Stan Musial jersey.

“Do you…  Have I never told you _why_ I wear number six?” Nicole asks, chewing on her lip.

“No…?”  Waverly tilts her head with a furrowed brow.  “Is everything okay, baby?”

Nicole skims her fingers down Waverly’s arm and laces their fingers together again.

“Come with me,” she whispers and tugs Waverly along with her as she sets off toward the west side of the stadium.

 

+++

 

“Wow…  He got a Presidential Medal of Freedom?”

“Mhm,” Nicole hums, wrapping her arms around Waverly’s waist and resting her chin on the top of her head while she reads the plaque on the memorial statue.

“And twenty-four All-Star games?  That’s impressive, even by today’s standards.”

“There’s a reason why they call him ‘Stan the Man’…”

Waverly leans back into Nicole’s chest and twists her head around to look up at her.  “I mean, this is all pretty awesome.  But still.  Why such an old player to choose your number after?”

“When my grandpa was a little boy, they didn’t have much.  Their biggest form of entertainment was listening to Harry Caray call the Cardinals games on the radio after working in the fields on the farm.”

Waverly frowns.  “I thought Jack Buck was the announcer for the Cardinals.  I’ve heard old recordings of him on ESPN.  Wasn’t Harry Caray with the Cubs?  The whole ‘seventh-inning stretch’ thing?”

“He was,” Nicole laughs, tapping Waverly lightly on the nose.  “But he got his start with the Cardinals in the forties.  He and Jack Buck used to call the games together.”

“Oh.  And here I always thought they were rivals,” Waverly laughs, continuing to lean into Nicole.

“No, they were actually really good friends.   _Anyway_ …”

“Sorry,” Waverly says, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly.

Nicole leans down and kisses her, then continues her story.  “Anyway.  He listened to the games almost every night.  They were _really_ good in the forties.  Won the World Series three times.  And Musial was his favorite player.”

Waverly nods, watching Nicole as she looks at the statue while she talks.

“When Grandpa was a little older, he got to go to a game with his dad and uncle.  And he managed to get Musial’s autograph on a baseball.”  Waverly gasps quietly and Nicole looks down at her, grinning.  “I actually still have the ball.  It’s in a sealed display box at my parents’ house for safe keeping.”

“Maybe you can show it to me when we get back there?”

“Absolutely.”  Nicole rests her cheek on the top of Waverly’s head.  “Anyway, when Grandpa was an adult and finally had the means, he went to as many games as he could.  All the way up until his health wouldn’t let him anymore.   I used to come to games with him when I was little.  Just the two of us.  It was our special thing.  He bled Cardinal Red until the day he died.”

Waverly pushes up on her toes and kisses Nicole under her chin.

“And _that,_ Waverly Earp,” Nicole says, picking Waverly up by the waist and spinning her around, “is why I wear the number six.  And why I have a custom made jersey for an ‘old dude’ instead of a Molina jersey.”

Waverly giggles, and after Nicole sets her back down, she turns in her arms to kiss her properly.

“I’ll allow it,” she says, and kisses her again.

“We got an engraved memorial brick in Grandpa’s name when they built the new stadium, too.  C’mon,” Nicole says, dragging Waverly after her again.  “It’s over by Gate 3, and that’s near where we need to enter the stadium, anyway.”

“Wait!”  Waverly plants her feet and pulls Nicole up short.

“What’s wrong?”

“Let’s get a picture in front of the statue first.”

Nicole beams and throws one arm around Waverly, using her other long arm to frame the shot with her phone.

Waverly turns her head and kisses Nicole on the cheek at the last minute.

 

+++

 

Their seats are ten rows behind the visitor’s dugout and Waverly takes about a hundred pictures of the Rays players that are just a few yards away.  Nicole buys her cotton candy and nachos and a ridiculous foam finger and Waverly yells louder than any of the men in their section.

The Cardinals win by three runs, but Longoria hit a home run in the fifth inning and Waverly squealed and jumped in Nicole’s arms when it happened.  She’s swinging their hands between them as they walk out of the stadium and jabbering excitedly about the diving catch Piscotty made in right field and Nicole thinks she’s the most adorable thing she’s ever seen.

“It’s still so early,” Waverly says when they’ve made it back through the gate.  She’s practically bouncing with energy, her face slightly pink after sitting through the afternoon game.  “What should we do now?  Are we going somewhere?”

“I don’t know, Wave.  I’m pretty beat.”  Nicole stretches her arms above her head and then lets her shoulders sag when they fall back to her sides.  “The sun took a lot out of me.  Maybe just back to the hotel?”

“Oh,” Waverly says, fidgeting with her foam finger.  “Okay.  It _has_ been a busy day, I guess.”

They head off down the sidewalk in the direction of their hotel, still hand in hand, with Nicole hiding a smirk when Waverly’s not looking.

+++

Nicole checks her phone when they reach the hotel, stopping Waverly just outside the door to the lobby.

“It’s close to dinner time.  You wanna grab some food before we go up?”

“Yeah, I could definitely eat,” Waverly says, looking at her own watch.  “We can get it to go, though.  Since you wanted to get back.”

“I’ll be alright,” Nicole chuckles and leads her to a café down the block.

“It’s about time!” someone shouts as soon as they walk in the door.  Waverly looks around, confused, and then lights up when she sees Hayley waving at them from a table by the window.

“You’re an ass,” she scolds, spinning around to punch Nicole’s shoulder.   _“Oh, I’m so tired.  Let’s go back to the room_.  You are so full of _shit_ , Nicole Haught.”

Nicole just laughs heartily while Waverly continues to swat her arm.

“What are you doing here?” Waverly asks, giving Hayley a hug when they get to the table.  “Nic didn’t tell me you were coming.  And you’re even kid-free!”

“That was kind of the point, Waverly,” Hayley deadpans, scooting back into the booth.  “It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“We thought a girls’ night out might be fun,” Nicole grins, sliding in next to Waverly.

“Keith is keeping the kids tonight, and Mama is ready to party with her baby sister and her girlfriend.”

“Oh, lord…” Waverly laughs.  “Something tells me this is going to be an _experience_.”

 

+++

 

“I’m timing you two,” Hayley says when they’re back in the lobby of the hotel after catching up over dinner.  “I’ll know if there was any funny business.”

Waverly’s face turns red, but Nicole just smirks.

“I think you underestimate my skills, sis,” she calls over her shoulder as she and Waverly step into the elevator.

“I hope you don’t think you’re getting lucky after that,” Waverly grumbles as they ride up to their floor.

“I’m already lucky,” Nicole whispers in Waverly’s ear as she presses her against the wall of the elevator with her whole body.

“Flattery isn’t going to work either, Haught,” Waverly groans, but her hands are already grasping at Nicole’s hips.

The elevator dings and Nicole steps back as the door slides open, leaving Waverly breathless and clinging to the railing.

“C’mon.”  Nicole waggles her eyebrows, holding out her hand.  “If we only take one shower instead of two, Hayley will never know.”

“I hate you,” Waverly mumbles, taking Nicole’s hand and dragging her down the hall to the door of their room.

 

+++

 

Hayley does not look surprised in the least that it’s nearly an hour later when Nicole and Waverly stroll back into the lobby, dressed and ready to go for a night out.  She arches an eyebrow and Nicole just shrugs with a smug grin.

Waverly wants to know where they’re going, but they both just tell her not to ask so many questions.  The cab takes them to Laclede’s Landing and they walk along the waterfront, Waverly taking pictures of the Mighty Mississippi all lit up at night, until Nicole pulls them into a line for one of the bars.

“The Big Bang?” she asks, looking at the piano keys on the sign.  “What kind of bar is this?”

“An _experience,”_ Hayley says with a wink and Nicole laughs.

It doesn’t take them long to reach the door, and after they get their stamps, Hayley and Waverly stop at the bar to order drinks while Nicole manages to grab them a table fairly close to the stage.  Waverly pushes her chair aside and settles in Nicole’s lap instead, and then comments skeptically on the two large pianos on the stage in front of them.

“Trust me,” Nicole whispers in her ear.  “You won’t be disappointed.”

Hayley had been right.  The rest of the night is an _experience_.  The musicians come out and play songs from any era Waverly can think of.  The four of them switch between the two pianos, a bass guitar, and the drums – sometimes right in the middle of a song – and they all sing different parts and different harmonies.

Nicole pulls a wad of cash out of her pocket and tells Waverly to make as many requests as she wants, picking songs at random and scribbling them on a napkin, taking each one up with a tip and laying them on the pianos with the piles of other similar napkins.

There’s a bachelorette party there, and at one point they all get pulled up on stage and made to do silly dances while the musicians sing to them.  Birthdays and graduations and anniversaries are announced.  They play classic rock songs and hip hop songs and country songs and silly interactive songs that have parts for the audience to sing as well.

Waverly splits her time between singing along and making requests and talking to Hayley and making out with Nicole.  By the time last call hits, the three of them can barely stand up, but Hayley manages to call the pre-programmed number for their ride home.

They pour themselves into the cab, still singing a drunken version of _Sweet Caroline_ all the way back to the hotel.

 

+++

 

They’re both still passed out in the morning when they hear someone pounding on the door to their room.

“No room service!” Waverly yells, pulling a pillow over her head.

The pounding continues, and Nicole actually throws her pillow at the door.

_“Nicole Marie Haught, get your ass out of bed right this minute!”_

“Shit,” Nicole grunts, pulling on a tank top and boxers.  She tosses a t-shirt at Waverly’s face.  “You’ve got about thirty seconds to put that on,” she croaks, her voice thick and hoarse.

“Fuuuuuuck,” Waverly groans, getting the shirt over her head just as Nicole opens the door.

Hayley waltzes in with a carrier full of coffee from the shop across the street.  She hands a styrofoam cup to each of them and laughs when they just stare at her with bleary eyes.

“God, it’s like _Night of the Living Dead_ in here.  You guys look like death warmed over.  Drink up.  Both of you,” she insists.  “And get your asses downstairs to have breakfast with me before it’s too late.”

Waverly mumbles something about where she can stick her breakfast and Nicole snorts into her coffee, but they manage to get dressed and make it down to the lobby in time for the continental breakfast.  Hayley makes them eat a muffin and drink some juice, and once she’s satisfied they have both rejoined the land of the living, she kisses them each on the forehead and heads back home.

 

+++

 

“What do you wanna do today?” Nicole asks as they finish packing up their things so they can check out.

“Anything you want,” Waverly says, flopping on the bed while Nicole stacks their suitcases by the door.  “You let me pick on Friday.”

“It doesn’t matter to me.”  Nicole sits down next to her and leans over to kiss her softly.  “As long as we end up at the Arch tonight, we can do whatever you want until then.”

“The Arch, huh?”  Waverly rolls over to face her, propping herself up on her elbow.

“Mhm.  I already bought us tickets to the sunset viewing.”  Nicole ducks her head, her face going faintly pink.  “I hope that’s okay,” she mumbles.

“Of course it is, babe.”  Waverly squirms around until her head is resting in Nicole’s lap and she can look up into her eyes.  “This trip was for both of us.  I want to do things that you like, too.”

“I like _you,”_ Nicole says, grinning, and Waverly rolls her eyes.

“We don’t have time for that now.  We have to check out in fifteen minutes.”

“Plenty of time,” she laughs, pulling Waverly upright until she’s straddling her lap.

 

+++

 

They make it to the front desk with less than two minutes to spare.  The clerk is kind enough not to mention their messy hair and the fact that they’re out of breath.

“So, what’s it gonna be?” Nicole asks once the bags are loaded in the trunk.

“Well,” Waverly ponders thoughtfully.  “What are the actual choices?  You know what there is better than I do.”

“Hmm…”  Nicole leans her head back against the seat.  “Science Center.  Magic House.  Anheuser-Busch Brewery.  Art Museum.  Grant’s Farm.  Zoo.”  She turns to face Waverly.  “Any of that sound good?”

“All of it,” Waverly laughs.

“Funny.”  Nicole reaches over and takes her hand.  “Depending on which ones you choose, we _might_ have time to fit two of them in.”

“How aboooout…” she thinks while playing with Nicole’s fingers.  “Actually.  How about I pick one and you pick one.”

Nicole considers her for a moment.  “I suppose I could live with that.”

“Okay, good.  What’s a Magic House?”

Nicole laughs, and kisses Waverly’s knuckles.  “You were dying to ask that, weren’t you?”

“Yep.  Now tell me.  What is it?”

“Mmm…  Well.  Lotsa hands-on exhibits and trivia and stuff.  There’s even an electro-static generator.”

“And magic?”

She laughs again.  “Yes, Waverly.  Also magic.  There’s usually a couple of pretty topnotch magicians set up near the restaurant.”

“I pick that one.”

“Sounds good to me,” Nicole says, starting the car.  She pays the ticket at the automated gate and then takes them in direction of the museum.

“What about you?” Waverly asks.  “You get to pick one, too.”

“I was thinking maybe we could tour the Brewery.”  She glances over at Waverly.  “If that’s okay with you?”

“Anything you want.”

 

+++

 

Nicole spends the rest of the morning following Waverly around the Magic House as she examines dozens of exhibits and plays with sand castles and explores the mock submarine.  They test out the racing cars and giggle as they get shooed away by the attendant when they try to turn them into bumper cars instead.

They eat lunch at the Picnic Basket Café and watch two different magic shows.  Waverly even manages to get herself chosen to be an assistant in one of them, and Nicole takes pictures of her holding the rabbit.  They visit the electro-static generator on the way out and buy the picture of them with their hair standing on end while they touch it.

 

+++

 

They tour the Anheuser-Bush Brewery in the afternoon, learning about the history of the company and the various processes they’ve used as technology has advanced.  Waverly pets a massive Clydesdale and Nicole plays with the Dalmatian puppy and they watch the vats with the brewing and the fermenting and the lagering.

Waverly sits in Nicole’s lap in the outdoor beer garden when the tour culminates in the daily beer tasting ritual, and they visit the gift shop on the way out.  Waverly buys Nicole a set of _Beer & Baseball_ stone coasters and Nicole buys them a set of matching can coozies that look like baseballs with stitches.

It’s late in the afternoon and Nicole kisses Waverly long and slow before they climb back in the car and head toward the Arch.

 

+++

 

Nicole squirms uncomfortably in her seat, her jaw clenched and her hands gripping her thighs so tightly her knuckles are turning white.

“Hey…”  Waverly whispers, prying Nicole’s fingers loose so that she can take one of her hands in her own.  “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine,” Nicole hisses through her teeth.

“You’re not.”  Waverly scoots closer, ignoring the elevator full of other people watching them.  “You’ve never been like this in an elevator before.  What’s going on?”

“Other elevators don’t rock and sway and creak while they climb 600ft in the air with twenty other people crammed into them.”  Nicole squeezes her eyes shut.

“Nicole Haught,” Waverly chides lightly, skimming her fingers up and down Nicole’s forearm in a soothing manner.  “If you have a problem with small spaces or heights, then why in the hell did you plan for us to do this?”

“Not small spaces and not heights,” Nicole bites out.  “The emphasis was on the rocking and swaying and creaking.”

“Okay.  Shhhh.  It’s okay.”  She reaches out and tips Nicole’s chin toward her.  Nicole’s eyes are still closed.  “Look at me.”  Nicole shakes her head.  “Haught.  You look at me right now.”

Nicole’s eyes slide open and she grips Waverly’s hand tighter.

“Good,” Waverly whispers.  “Good.  Just look at me.  I’m right here.  Look at me.”

 

+++

 

Nicole is the first one out of the tram when they reach the top six minutes later, everyone else parting to let her through.  It takes her a minute to get her breathing back to normal again, and Waverly rubs soothing circles on her back until she’s ready to move into the observation area.

They find a spot along the bank of windows on the west side and Waverly gasps when she looks out over the Mississippi, the water on fire with reflections of the blazing summer evening sky.

“It’s breathtaking,” she murmurs, turning back to look at Nicole.  She gasps again when she sees that Nicole is down on one knee in front of her.

“It really is,” Nicole says, looking up at her.  She pulls a small box out of her pocket.

“Nicole…”  Waverly glances around at the other people trying to pretend like they aren’t paying attention.  “What are you doing?  You can’t—”

“Shut your talky, talky mouth, Waverly Earp,” Nicole laughs, “and let me finish.”

“But…”

“Can it, Earp.”  Nicole grins when Waverly snaps her mouth shut.  “Good.  Now.  As I was saying.  We obviously can’t get engaged yet.  I’m leaving for the Academy when we get back and you are starting Grad School in the fall.  And after that, you’ll be working on your Doctorate and I’ll be a rookie cop.”

Waverly nods, her brow furrowed with confusion.

“But I know that I wanna be with you.  And you know that you wanna be with me.  Right?”

Waverly nods again.

“Good.  Then that’s enough for now.  We have each other, and that’s what really matters.  Right?”

“Of course.  Of course it is.”

“Good.  Excellent.”

“But then…  What’s all…”  She waves her hand around.   _“This?”_

“Waverly Earp,” Nicole says, holding the box up.  “Will you move in with me?”

“…What?”

Nicole grins and opens the box, revealing a key.  “Will you.”  She points at Waverly.  “Move in.”  She waves the box with the key around dramatically.  “With me.”  She points at herself.

“But…  You’re leaving for the Academy,” Waverly frowns.

Nicole rolls her eyes and pulls herself up off of the floor to lean against the railing next to Waverly.

“I know I am.  But that’s only for a few months.  And when I get back, you’ll already be in Grad School.  But I’m not going anywhere without you, baby.  Rick told me I could have a job with campus security any time I wanted it.”

Waverly shakes her head.  “You’re not going to be a security guard just because I’m stuck in school.”

“Of course I am,” Nicole laughs.  “I am going to take the campus job while you finish school and get a year or two of experience under my belt.  And then when you figure out where you’re going for your Doctorate, that’s when I’ll start applying to nearby cop shops.”

“But…  why would you do that?”  Waverly reaches up and traces her fingers over Nicole’s cheek.

“Because, Wave.  I love you.  And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Wherever our adventures may take us.  And we both agreed that we’ll wait to get married until time is right.  But I want to get started on the rest of it right now.”

“Yes,” Waverly finally says.  “I’ll move in with you.”  Nicole leans toward her, but Waverly pulls back.  “But how do you already have a key?”

“Oh.”  Nicole shrugs her shoulders sheepishly.  “It’s just a random key I bought at the hardware store.  It doesn’t go to anything.  I sort of figured we could look for a place together when we get back.  I have a couple of weeks before I have to leave.”

Waverly’s smile eclipses the sunset when she surges forward and kisses Nicole hard on the mouth, ignoring the whistles and claps coming from around them.

“Besides,” Nicole giggles when they break for air.  “You already promised I could get a puppy.”

Waverly shoves at her shoulder, but Nicole rests their foreheads together.

“Whaddaya say, Waverly Earp?  Are you ready for forever?”

“Forever,” Waverly whispers and kisses her again.


	8. Chapter 8

“Come on, kiddo, you can do it!” Waverly calls, her hands cupped in front of her mouth.

She whoops as the seven-year-old at home plate hits a ball in the direction of left field and, just a little casually, runs to first base.

Wynonna, sitting on the bleachers next to Waverly, squints over her sunglasses. “Hey, not bad. I might have to start recruiting. We’ll have to do some work on the running discipline, though.”

Waverly sits back down and smacks her sister on the shoulder. “Hey! Leave my kid alone!”

Wynonna grins at her. “You ran better at that age.”

“Yeah, because you _chased_ me.”

They bicker a bit as they pay attention to the game, until the second of Waverly’s twin daughters gets up to the plate, at which point Waverly bolts up to stand and cheer again.

The little girl strikes out, but she looks at her mother through the fence, grins, and shrugs, and Waverly beams back at her.

All is well, until the weakest player on the team, a small, nervous boy, comes up to the plate.

And the trouble starts.

“Choke up on the bat!” his father screams from the seat behind Waverly and Wynonna. “Where are you looking? Don’t swing at that! That’s way out of the zone! Are you blind? Come on, Oliver! Hey! Pay attention to the ball! Run! RUN FASTER!”

He mutters a stream of curses under his breath as his son gets out at first. “Damn kid’ll never play for the A’s.”

Waverly clenches her hand in her lap, and Wynonna sighs. “Here it goes,” she mumbles.

“Sir, you do realize that they’re _seven_ , right?” Waverly says, her voice ice cold as she turns to face the father. “They have plenty of time to be good at baseball. And besides, the odds of playing for the Majors? Slim to none. The sport is just for fun. Let the kids have fun. If you can’t handle that, please do us all, including your son, a favor and never come to a game again.”

“I can encourage my son as much as I want,” the man snarls in response.

“Mm, yeah, but it’s not so much _encouragement_ as _pressuring the poor kid and making him do worse during the desperate effort to please you_.”

Wynonna, not even turning around, raises her hand. “College coach. I can second that observation.”

The man splutters to come up with a reply before simply glaring and moving over to the other end of the bleachers.

At that precise moment, Nicole joins Waverly and Wynonna with a four-year-old boy on her shoulders.

“Aw,” Nicole says, sounding disappointed. “Did I miss Waverly ripping apart a jerk parent again?”

“Sadly, she didn’t threaten to deck him,” Wynonna comments.

“That was just strike one,” Waverly mutters darkly.

“Mama,” the boy on Nicole’s shoulders says brightly, “we won!”

“You _did_? That’s _great_ , buddy!”

He proudly pats the filthy #27 on the chest of his tee ball uniform. “I catched a ball! Two times!”

Nicole reaches up to adjust the hat on her son’s head, grinning affectionately. “Mhm. They were sort of easy little pop-ups, but he did a good job. He’s making progress.” She winks at Wynonna. “Maybe he’ll see the error of his little outfielder ways and switch to catcher sometime.”

Wynonna points at her. “You already have your battery twins. A catcher and pitcher are already teamed up in your household. _Let me have my outfielder nephew_.”

“Okay,” Nicole deadpans, taking the boy off of her shoulders and depositing him in Wynonna’s lap.

He looks up at Wynonna upside-down. “Hi.”

Wynonna grins down at him. “Hi.”

_“DAMMIT, OLIVER, CATCH THE BALL!”_

“Okay,” Waverly says. “I’m skipping strike two.”

She gets to her feet and turns to the man, starting to walk across the bleachers towards him as she rolls up the sleeves of her Tampa Bay Rays shirt.

“Ruh roh,” Nicole mumbles. She scrambles up the bleachers and grabs Waverly around the waist at the exact moment that she tries to lunge towards the father.

The youngest Earp-Haught looks up at Wynonna again, giggling. “Mama’s gonna hit him.”

Wynonna shakes her head and kisses the boy’s hair. “Pitchers.”

 

+++

 

Nicole sits in the bed of Wynonna’s truck, watching Waverly run around their front yard with their daughters.

Fallon Jennie Earp-Haught is about an inch taller than her older twin, and she’s already learning pitching techniques from Waverly. “Only a little,” Waverly insisted once. “She’s too small to actually learn a lot. I’d never do that to her.”

Piper Catherine Earp-Haught, meanwhile, has eagerly taken up the role of catcher, running around with Nicole’s old catcher’s mask on even though it’s far too big for her.

They rebelled when they were in tee ball, though: Fallon put on Nicole’s number, and Piper put on Waverly’s. Wynonna found it hilarious.

The youngest Earp-Haught, Rylan Cobb, wears his aunt’s old number. As he dozes in Nicole’s lap, she brushes her fingers through his hair.

Wynonna steals a throw from Fallon before Piper can catch it, then, upon protest, tosses it back to her niece with a laugh. She climbs into the truck bed and sits down next to Nicole, careful not to disturb her sleeping nephew.

“So,” she says, handing Nicole a beer. “Detect anything useful lately, Detective?”

Nicole laughs and takes a sip. “Not much, I suppose. Mostly been handling robberies.”

“Like when my sister stole your heart?”

“Wow.”

Wynonna grimaces. “Yeah, that one sucked.” She leaned back and cracked open her own beer. “Speaking of sucking. How _is_ life treating you here in sunny California? Not missing the far superior beaches of Florida, are you? Or… I guess… the unrelenting boredom of Missouri.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Thanks. And it’s fine. It’s good. Waverly’s got her curator job, I’ve got my detective job, the kids are happy and healthy, the dog is happy and healthy…” She shrugs. “It’s… It’s good.”

“Good,” Wynonna says, mischief in her eyes. “Now that you’re content, maybe you can finally admit to me what you and Waverly said in your wedding vows that required them to be whispered into each other’s ears.”

“They were heartfelt, private declarations of love,” Nicole says with a straight face.

“Mhm. _Or_ , they were X-rated debauchery in the middle of a lovely ceremony.” Wynonna flicks Nicole’s nose. “I know which one _I’m_ betting on, and _some day_ I’m going to get you to fess up.”

“Never.” Before Wynonna can say anything in response, Nicole says, “Thank you, by the way.”

“For what?”

“Coming all the way up here for Rylan’s birthday. I know he won’t say it, but it means a lot to him. The kids all get sad sometimes. Not getting to see you; not getting to see Hayley and Keith and the kids; not getting to see their grandparents.” Nicole sighs and rests her head back against the truck. “I wish I could do more for them. I want their lives to be perfect. For them to have every single thing they dream about, without any of the…”

“Drama?”

Nicole chuckles softly. “Yeah.”

Wynonna reaches down and strokes her nephew’s hair. “You love your children, Nicole. You’re doing everything you can for them. Nobody could ask for any different. As for the rest of it? Don’t worry so much. Even if they do run into a bit of drama, they’ll get through it. Because they have _the two of you_.”

Nicole watches Waverly run for a moment, warm love settled in her eyes. “Can you take Rylan for a minute?” she asks in a whisper.

“Of course.”

Nicole shifts her sleeping son into Wynonna’s lap and rests her bottle of beer down in the bed of the truck. Then she jumps out and runs, and, despite nearing the midway point of her forties, tackles Waverly to the ground.

There’s a single shout of shock, then nothing but laughter as they roll around in the grass, playfully battling to come out on top. When the tumbling finally stops, Nicole is on her back, grinning up at her wife.

“You’re an idiot,” Waverly says, looking down at her with a smile.

“I know.”

“A cocky idiot.”

“I _know_.” Nicole brushes a strand of hair out of Waverly’s face. “But… is it arrogance if I know I’m always gonna score?”


End file.
